And The Horse You Rode In On
by OmniHelix
Summary: Twenty-three years after the train station, she is in no mood to forgive, and he cannot forget.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I own neither Glee nor its characters. **

"Yes. Yes. Tuesday for lunch. D'Artagnan's. Got it. I look forward to seeing you!"

Rachel Berry updated her phone calendar and sipped her coffee. It was a perfect early-autumn Saturday in New York City: slightly cool, flawlessly azure sky, people out and about. She was sitting in the sidewalk patio of the coffee house, and realized, to her delight, that she had nothing to do. In fact, she had nothing to do for three months. Maybe it was time for a vacation. She smiled, thinking about the villa she rented the year before on the island of Ischia. That wouldn't be bad, and relatively inexpensive. And she could be alone; being single had its advantages. Maybe Lorenzo still lived there…ahhhhh.

A shadow fell across her table, interrupting her thoughts.

"Ms. Berry?"

"Yes?" Rachel looked up. It was a young woman, a student, by her appearance. She was tall, at least five-nine, willowy, with shoulder-length, deep-auburn hair, fair skin, and gorgeous tawny eyes. If she was a student, Rachel thought, she hadn't been in New York long; she wore a red plaid shirt over jeans, and sneakers.

"I'm a freshman at NYADA, and I heard you were one of their most prestigious alumni, and wondered if I could ask you a few questions."

"Of course!" Rachel flashed her patented Rachel Berry beam. "What's your name?"

"Nell," the girl said, "Nell Hudson."

Rachel froze for a moment. She couldn't be. Then she studied the girl more carefully. The hair threw her off-too red- but there was the height, and now, on a second look, there was the bone structure of her face, especially around the eyes. The age was certainly right. She stood up.

"Nell Hudson," she repeated. " Kurt Hummel's niece? "

"Yes!" Nell looked pleased. "Uncle Kurt said you are a friend of his from high school, and that you are a NYADA alum. "

She hugged Nell, "It's so wonderful to finally meet you. I've never even seen a photograph. I wonder why your uncle never mentioned you getting in to NYADA?" Yes, she thought, what the hell? It must have been Finn.

Nell shrugged.

"I don't know, Ms. Berry."

"Call me Rachel. After all, you're practically family!" Family I was never allowed to even meet, she thought, bitterly. But the girl had nothing to do with that, so she beckoned, "Sit, sit!"

Nell, sat, with a shy smile.

"You have a younger sister, Sarah, right?" Kurt did tell her the bare bones milestones. Finn's marriage to Alice, Nell and Sarah's births, Alice's death in a car accident two years ago. That was it, apparently all Finn would allow. Which Rachel never understood—there had been no contact between them since he set her on that train, twenty-three years ago. The Universe had pretty much spoken, you know?

"Right. She's fifteen. Doing well."

"And your dad, how is he?" Rachel had no idea what Nell and her sister—hell, even his wife-knew about her and Finn. No sense in bringing it up now. "I heard about your mother, I'm so sorry."

"Thanks." Nell looked somber. "As for Dad… I have no idea, now." Rachel could see that she suddenly realized that she was talking to, essentially, a perfect stranger, and the family defenses came up. She started to smile again. "He's okay, I guess," she finished lamely.

Rachel nodded.

"Good…good." She sat back. "So, what do you want to know, Nell? How can I help you?"

Nell was in the composer program, but decided to take the basic acting, dancing and singing classes which were mandatory for Musical Theater majors. "I want to understand how it all fits together, even if it means taking a little longer for my degree" she said, and Rachel nodded her approval. Dancing was a problem.

"Dad says I dance like a duck," she giggled.

Rachel wanted to bring up Finn's legendary dancing skills, but caught herself. Just thinking about him dragged up old, but righteous (in her mind) resentment. She sometimes wished she didn't feel so bitter towards Finn and how it all turned out. But, she kept reminding herself, she had done nothing to deserve this 23-year-old silence, either. Nothing. But now wasn't the time to wallow in that mess. She pushed the anger down.

"I'm sure you're more graceful than that."

They chatted some more, and Rachel listened sympathetically as Nell complained about how freshman didn't get priority on rehearsal space after hours.

"Freshmen don't, that's true," she said with a wink, "But alumni do." Nell's eyes grew wide.

"Would you be willing to do that? I know you're busy…"

She liked this girl, liked her drive and self-awareness. Yes, she was Finn's daughter, but, more importantly, she was a NYADA student and Rachel, who credited a lot of her success to the education she received there, wasn't about to abandon her.

"You happen to be in luck," she said, leaning forward. "I'm free for the next three months, and nothing would please me more than to help you any way I can."

The girl looked overwhelmed, but there was something else behind her expression that Rachel couldn't quite figure out.

"I don't know what to say, Ms. Berry—uh, Rachel. This is so kind of you."

"It's my pleasure," Rachel said, "And there's something else we can get started. You know of the Broadway composer Tom Foley, right? "

Nell looked at her, trying to suppress a massive "DUH!", but just managed to nod instead. She is a delight, Rachel thought.

"Well, he happens to be a very dear friend of mine," she lowered her voice and whispered conspiratorially, "We even were together for five years," making Nell laugh. "Would you like to have dinner with him and me this week? I'll introduce him to you."

"Oh my God, thank you! Thank You!" Nell was ecstatic. She shook her head slowly in amazement. "I had dreamed about New York being like this, but I didn't dare think I'd be meeting two Broadway legends in a week!"

"It's an amazing place," Rachel agreed.

They exchanged phone numbers and Nell left, looking like she was on Cloud Nine. Rachel ordered another coffee, and was soon lost in thought. Nell hadn't mentioned her relationship with Finn. Surely she knew Rachel, her father and her uncle all went to high school together. And she must have seen the nationals video. Or did she? Maybe Rachel had suffered the fate of many Ancient Egyptian pharaohs, whose names and images had been erased from every public monument. As if they had never existed. Tears stung her eyes just thinking about that. But then came the outrage.

All she had done was love him, even agree to marry him, only to be left, just short of the altar, humiliated and stunned, before all of her friends, at a train station. Even then, everyone thought what Finn had done was noble, that he had sacrificed his own happiness so that she could **b**e free to pursue her dreams. Hadn't anyone been listening to her? Since when had she given up that dream? All she had done was defer the dream one fucking year, in order to help Finn and Kurt get theirs together. The two of them would have been married, and would have launched themselves in New York as the team they had talked about so excitedly.

Even when that didn't happen, even when she arrived in New York, heartbroken and alone, she believed it could still work. So she had written. And texted. And emailed. And when she received not even one single reply, she had begged, abjectly, for something, anything to let her know he still loved her. Even dogs get bones tossed to them, if only out of pity. Rachel received nothing. Only a note from Kurt (who was now in Milan) that Finn had gotten out of the army. That note only raised her hopes, she thought bitterly. When he never tried to contact her, or even reply to her letter congratulating him on getting out safely, Rachel was at the end of her rope. All that noble talk, she decided, had been nothing but bullshit, and her hero was nothing more than a coward, unable to face and tell her that he no longer loved her.

Rachel Berry picked herself up, determined to move on. There was only so much blatant insulting of her self respect she would take. Kurt's updates about Finn's going to college at OSU Lima and getting married as a student only stung briefly, as she tried to move on with her life.

She had boyfriends. And she may have even loved a couple of them. Tom Foley, bless his sweet, decent heart, lasted the longest. And she found success, achieving her career dreams with three Tonys, and maybe even greater things when the film started up in three months. But she never found happiness. Finn may have found a way to mask her side of the tether, but she couldn't seem to cut that one final thread, the one that haunted the back of her mind when she began to love somebody else, the one that suggested there might still be hope for them, someday. Once she had spent four years praying every night for Finn's safety. Now she prayed to be allowed to find that one love which would mask Finn's side of the tether, like a dominant allele over a recessive. Like Alice had masked hers.

Rachel realized, at that moment, she needed to think about something other than Alice Hudson. Going down that tunnel always led her to the one feeling that frightened her, the one thing she allowed to loathe about herself: the fear she could never forgive Finn for loving someone more than her.

So she shook off that feeling, and thought about how she could help his daughter instead. But first things first. Pulling out her phone, she decided it was time Kurt Elizabeth Hummel received a piece of Rachel Berry's mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt Hummel was in a good mood. His new line, based out of Milan, was selling like hotcakes. He was sitting in the living room of his apartment, enjoying a nice Italian sparkling wine, on a perfect late afternoon, with Blaine. They had tickets for La Scala that night: Mozart's _The Abduction from the Seraglio_ was playing, with the new tenor Enrico Falcone. His phone buzzed, and he cringed when he saw who it was. He had a feeling the perfect day was about to screw the pooch.

"Hi Rachel, " he said, pleasantly, fighting it to the end.

"Hi Kurt! " Rachel sounded good. His hopes rose. "Guess who I met today?"

Crap.

"Who?" But he knew.

"Your lovely niece, Nell, that's who!" Rachel hissed. "Apparently, she got into NYADA! Imagine my surprise, especially after finding out you suggested she look me up!"

Kurt sighed.

"Fortunately," Rachel went on, "She is a delightful, talented girl. And I have three months off, as you know. So I can devote a lot of time to helping her out. I'm introducing her to Tom later in the week."

Relief washed over him. His instincts about his best friend, who he loved to death, had been right, after all. That made what followed so much easier to bear.

"That's great! Thank you," he said, sincerely.

"Yes, it is. What isn't great, however…" there was a pause on the line. An image flashed before his eyes of Rachel loading a blunderbuss. "…is you're failure to let me know she was admitted! What the fuck, Kurt?"

There was another pause, then:

"Is it Finn, Kurt? Did he prevent you from telling me? "

He wasn't going to outright lie to her.

"Rachel, Finn didn't want me to tell you. But that's because he didn't even want Nell to attend NYADA."

"WHAT?" He could almost smell the ozone rising from the burning airwaves. "Is he insane? Nell is perfect for NYADA."

"Agreed, Rachel."

Kurt sighed. Long ago, they had agreed to stop discussing his brother, because it always ended at the same place.

"It's me, isn't it? Isn't it? Does he hate me that much? " The anger and frustration behind her voice killed him to hear. But he had to let her know one thing.

"Rachel, he doesn't hate you. I keep telling you that."

He could hear her clear her throat.

"What's a bullshit euphemism for hate, Kurt? 'Cause that's exactly what it feels like, the way he's treated me." Then she stopped, sighing resignedly. "I'm sorry. I hate when we talk about him. Family. I just hope your useless brother appreciates what I'm doing, even though you can tell him from me that I'm not doing it for him. Or even for you, for that matter. It's for Nell."

Kurt carefully said nothing, and waited for that to sink in.

"Oh my God! Finn doesn't know you told Nell to look me up, does he?"

"Um…no."

"Well, I 'm going to tell you one thing, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, if he gives me any crap for it, there's going to be bloodshed, and most of it will be yours, you hear me?"

He made a mental note to hate himself later for smiling at the image of an outraged Rachel making a death threat. Oh how he missed her.

He admitted he had gone ahead and told her without Finn's permission, because he wanted the best for his niece. After all, he was the one that convinced Finn to let her go in the first place.

"Will he be angry with you? Not that I understand why he should feel that way. I never—" She stopped herself, and Kurt smiled. He knew how hard it was for her to talk about Finn without ranting. Not that he blamed her; his brother's shadow haunted Rachel still. It pained him not to be able to tell her everything he knew. He just wished she believed him when he said Finn didn't hate her. Such a thing was, literally, inconceivable for his brother.

"Finn does have his lucid moments, but he has a lot on his plate these days. He may be furious with me for a while, maybe not. But if so, he'll calm down, eventually."

"Is he ok, Kurt?" Rachel's voice had softened, finally. "Nell was cagey when I asked her."

"She's had a tough time, Rachel," Kurt said. "Nell's been practically running the house since Alice died. Finn pretty much shut down for the first few months. I intervened when he balked about letting her attend NYADA. I told him Nell had been the interim head of _his_ household, damnit, AND keeping her schoolwork up. She deserved this honor, and she deserved to live her life. After all, he wasn't the only one who lost Alice. Sarah's been doing her part as well, bless her heart. She lets me know how he's doing. She says he seems to be getting over Alice, but his behavior has become erratic overall lately, as if he is under some other stress. It's affecting his sleep. But Sarah promised to raise the alarm if it was anything she couldn't handle."

He heard Rachel sigh.

"Okay, let's hope he gets better—for their sake." Kurt agreed, but Rachel then asked, "Does Nell know anything about Finn and me? Even just being co-captains of Glee? I didn't broach the subject, given this whole fucking weird situation, but I don't want to step out of bounds."

He had to down almost an entire glass of wine in one swallow before he could answer.

"Neither of the girls know about you, other than you and I have been friends since high school," he managed to get out.

"Oh." His heart went out to his friend, hearing the hurt in her voice. "Well, I suppose that's to be expected, out of respect for their mother." That was better, though what she said next broke his heart. "I suppose you expect me to carry on this ridiculous fiction, if Nell asks? I mean, she's not stupid."

"Please do what you think best for Nell," he said. "I trust you with my niece, because you have a beautiful heart."

"Thank you," she said quietly. "I'll be discrete, but I won't lie for him, Kurt."

"I know," Kurt said, "And I would never expect you to lie for him."

In fact, he thought as he got up for more wine, he was counting on it.


	3. Chapter 3

He was able to stand at the sink now without instinctively making room for her. All the quirky arrangements of things she had maintained because she was left-handed were gone, too, because he couldn't bear to work around them.

One time she started cutting some meat, then handed him the cutting board to finish, and watched him fumble around with the knife in order to continue.

"Welcome to my world," she said, and burst out laughing, hazel eyes twinkling because they had been drinking wine before he decided they just had to have fajitas.

He sighed, because it was obvious it was going to be one of those days. It didn't bother him, really, remembering her, having memories intrude at the oddest times, leading into chains of them. It was other people, catching him daydreaming at work, or having to be patient with him when he lost a train of thought, that made him have to be more careful these days. He almost had to do it surreptitiously, as if sneaking off to have a cigarette. You see, it had been two years, and everyone had decided Finn Hudson hadn't moved on quite fast enough to suit them.

From the kitchen window of the yellow house he could see her chair, big and white, placed under the stately oak where it got the best shade. The corner of his eye kept trying to trick him, mischievously placing a woman with a big straw hat in the chair, reading to Sarah in her lap, only to pull them away when he actually looked.

He called her Red, and he loved her. She loved him too. They were teachers (her, English; him, music) at a middle school in Lima, and met in college, the Lima campus of OSU, where he went after getting out of the army. They surprised everyone by getting married and having Nell while still in school, but surprised them more by working so well together, Finn holding little Nell on his shoulders and letting her play with his tassel as they both received their Master's degrees. They lived in a yellow house with green trim, and rewarded themselves for buying it with Sarah. It was a simple, unremarkable life.

She was asking him to sing for her, as they worked together in the garden. You were in the Glee club, she said, the least you could do is sing to your wife on a beautiful spring day. And he did, because he really couldn't deny her anything.

And she didn't know about Rachel, other than being a friend of Kurt's from high school, and in Glee Club with them, and how she went to New York and became kinda famous. She didn't know the full story because he was ashamed of it. He was ashamed of panicking at the last moment, thinking he wasn't good enough for her to defer NYADA to help him, and humiliating her by putting her on that train when he should have been putting a ring on her finger, and how that must have meant he didn't really love her after all, and how every letter and phone call from her only made that feeling worse, and how his sergeant in Afghanistan told him it was only high school love and didn't mean anything, and he was so alone and terrified there, and so dependent, like all privates, on his sergeant for his very survival that he had believed him.

Rachel would never know how deep in despair and awash in shame he was when he returned home. Or that he once, while very drunk, after reading her last letter to him, considered ending his own life. Or that a kindly Vietnam vet named Red at the veteran's center turned him around and encouraged him to go to college, where the love of a quiet, bookish, compassionate woman named Alice made him want to live again.

The pungent smell of the onions he had been chopping brought him back. They went into a small bowl onto the table, now set for two. Chili was ladled from a pot onto hot dogs on buns, and he brought them to the table, just as Sarah came in from working outside in the garden.

"I'm going to wash up and be right down," she said, and disappeared. Finn got a Diet Coke and a beer from the refrigerator and sat at his place. The smell of chili and onions combined wafted up.

"If you think I'm going to kiss you with meat, chili and onions on your lips, you're very much mistaken." Airy laughter.

He looked up, smiling.

Nobody was there.

The kitchen was quiet; a male cardinal sang his heart out in the yard. He sat, very, very still, even holding his breath, hoping to hear more. But her voice did not return. It wasn't Alice's voice, not even her ghost's. A lump formed in his throat, tears filling his eyes, and when Sarah returned to the kitchen, her father was crying quietly at the table, staring at the wall.

"Oh, _Dad_," she said, sadly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, resting her head on his, "It's okay…."

Finn pulled himself together, and wiped his eyes and nose with a napkin.

"I'm alright now, baby," he said finally. "Just had a moment, that's all." A deep breath. "Eat your lunch."

He watched her eat. Chili dogs were her favorite food, but she ate perfunctorily, giving him a wary eye. She had the same auburn hair as Alice and Nell, only she wore it long, almost down to the middle of her back. Her face had her mother's extremely delicate bone structure, and hazel eyes. Both sisters had his height, but Sarah was almost lanky, with an athletic, tennis player's build.

"Dad," she said, "You have to tell us what's going on. It's like you're regressing. You haven't been like this since those first few months. It's scary."

Finn looked at Sarah with concern. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel that. But he didn't want to confuse her, either. It was time, he decided, to start sorting out the shame and guilt he had been feeling for years. But he was far from done.

"I'll be okay, honest. Its just that some days are worse than others, but the good days are beginning to outnumber the bad."

He knew she didn't believe him, but she didn't press the issue, either. They finished lunch, and he told her to go get lost at the Mall, and didn't she have a date tonight with that new guy, what's-his-name?

"Frank, Dad," she corrected him, giggling. She squealed when he slipped some money in her hand for something nice to wear. Sarah made him proud, though, when she warned him:

"You're not buying me off, you know. We're having a serious discussion about you, preferably tomorrow."

"Yes dear," he joked, and she kissed him, bouncing out of the house to head over to her friend Betty's, next door.

Back at the sink, Finn started on the lunch dishes. Alice's chair remained empty under the oak, as the cardinal just kept singing. It took all his willpower to stay on task and not turn around.

There was the smell of banana bread.


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt Elizabeth Hummel just couldn't catch a break. La Scala had been wonderful, the Mozart divine, and he and Blaine peacefully asleep at four o'clock in the morning, when he got the call. The theme song from _Jaws _told him who it was. He sighed.

"What the hell, Kurt!"

"Finn, always nice to talk to you, too. Especially at four in the morning."

"Shit. Sorry about that part. Apologize to Blaine for me, would you? "

Kurt winked at Blaine, who rolled back over, murmuring, "Uh oh."

"I'm awake now, so, what's on your mind?" He got up, put on a robe and slippers and headed for the kitchen.

"You know very well what's on my mind. What were you thinking? Nell? Rachel? What the fuck? "

Nell must have gushed to him already, Kurt thought.

"What the fuck indeed, Finn," Kurt said smoothly, pouring himself some sherry. "There isn't anybody in New York better suited to helping Nell go places in the business than Rachel. So what's your beef?"

He amused himself imagining his brother spluttering apoplectically.

"What if she tells Nell about us?"

"You mean, what if she tells Nell you had a love life before her mother? How old do you think Nell is, six?"

"No." Finn's voice had dropped. "What if she tells Nell what I did, and she hates me? What if she makes her think I loved Rachel more than her mother? I can't lose her, too, Kurt."

Kurt felt all of the snarkiness sucked out of him.

"Finn," he replied gently, "Rachel loved you once. And whatever resentment she may have for the way she was treated, the last thing she would want is to come between you and Nell. She may be a diva, but she's not cruel."

There was silence as he felt his brother digesting that. Then:

"Okay. You're right. As long as it's all for Nell's sake, I'm cool with it. And could you do me a favor when you talk to Rachel again?"

"Of course. What is it?"

"Just… thank her for me. "

This was huge, Kurt realized.

"I will. Now that you have me awake, tell me how you're doing. "

Finn told him about the healing going slower than most people wanted, and Kurt just dismissed their concerns.

"People have to be allowed to grieve as they need," he said.

His brother went on to say his biggest concern was that Nell and Sarah were worried about him.

"Things are happening to me and they aren't about Alice. I just think other crap has been pushed down because of her and now it's all rising up."

"That could be. Is there anything I can do?"

"No, no. Just be there, like you always have, and there for the girls when they need it. I'll be okay, I think. And I know you're paying Sarah to be a snitch, so I won't be able to keep anything from you." Finn gave a good-natured chuckle, and Kurt was relieved.

"You're up late yourself, aren't you, even for a Saturday?"

"Nah. Its only ten-thirty here. I'm waiting for Sarah to get back from her date with this new guy, what's his face."

"It's Frank, Finn, Jesus. Have you thoroughly terrorized him yet?

"Oh yeah. I was cleaning this knife I picked up in Afghanistan, a _kukri_, the traditional knife used by Nepalese Gurkha troops, when he showed up at the door. He looked interested, so I showed him how the Gurkhas use it in combat, and how it can cut through bone. Suddenly he got the message, and couldn't wait to get the hell out of there. I heard Sarah asking as they walked away, "He showed you that freaking Gurkha knife, didn't he?"

They both laughed.

"You know, Finn, the two of you did a great job with my nieces. Don't worry about Rachel. She'll take care of Nell."

"Thanks. Well, good night, and I'm sorry about all this."

"Finn, please take care of yourself. Good night."

Kurt finished the sherry, but couldn't sleep. In the living room, on the couch, he worried about his brother.

Nobody wanted him to slide back to the way he was when he got out of the army. It was the consensus of the family that Alice was the best thing to happen to him, and Kurt did, truly, love his sister-in-law.

Alice Hudson's spirit cast a large but gentle shadow on the Hudson-Hummel family. By any measure Finn and Alice were devoted to each other. Kurt surmised much of that was because Alice didn't trigger Finn's insecurities. She loved literature for its own sake, and held no artistic aspirations of her own. That rubbed off on Finn. Kurt remembered Alice calling him up proudly, saying Finn had started reading _The Wind in the Willows_ to Nell and Sarah, who were five and two at the time, every night. She said she had never seen him more at peace. What she loved most, she said, was seeing Nell entranced, with Sarah just happy to be included with her sister. They alternated reading books to their children. The two girls turned into voracious readers, and Alice never failed to remind everybody why. She had this knack for bringing out Finn's best qualities, and playing down his weaker ones.

She loved her garden. Kurt's fondest image of Alice was her standing amidst her flowers, sun all around her, with her big straw hat, overalls and freckles, smiling at him when he walked into the back unannounced one day.

Even though both of them were lowly teachers, Alice always made sure they kept a bottle of Kurt's favorite wine, an expensive Cabernet Savignon from the Joseph Phelps vineyard in the Napa Valley, to serve him when he visited. He, in turn, designed dresses for her; Finn always marveled at how beautiful and chic she looked when they went out. Kurt loved her willowy figure, which his dresses adored, and that gorgeous, deep-auburn hair. He was going to start designing dresses for his nieces next year, when everything settled down in Milan.

Alice made Finn happy.

Kurt got up and poured another sherry, because, to him, on the periphery of all this was his best friend. One day, long ago, when Finn had told Rachel he was applying to Pace, she told Kurt that she vowed to make Finn happy, and she looked radiantly happy herself. Yet, here they were, with Finn being the father and husband everyone knew he would be, only not with the woman who loved him with more passion than anyone Kurt had ever known.

And nobody seemed to see the tragedy in this.

Finn got the family and the children, Rachel got her Tony's. It all worked out, right?

Kurt knew better.

Some people still saw Finn's train station stunt as noble. Few knew what that fateful decision had actually cost. Still fewer understood what the arrival of Alice's innocent spirit truly meant: lost in the glow of Finn Hudson's salvation was the relegation of Rachel Berry to a kind of half-life, because Finn had truly been the love of her life. True, if one were to perform some kind of spiritual accounting, had Alice not come into Finn's life, he might very well have ended it himself. Kurt shuddered, thinking about that; only he knew that Finn had contemplated suicide. But even that didn't change the fact that the brass ring had been cruelly snatched out of Rachel's hand at a train station in Lima, Ohio, when she was seventeen years old.

And now Alice was dead, and his brother wasn't doing well. Kurt sighed. He needed to talk to his snitch.


	5. Chapter 5

Nell wasn't quite prepared for her first full dose of Rachel Berry. On Monday afternoon, she was leaving her last class, and ran into a crowd of students and faculty in the hall. Rachel was in the middle of them, chatting, even signing pieces of paper.

It was remarkable just how small Rachel was. Almost everyone in the crowd dwarfed her, yet she instinctively commanded the hall with just her voice and smile. Her hair was down this time, dark, wavy, and shoulder-length, and she was dressed in a simple but expensive-looking cream silk jacket, black top and pants, and low pumps. At forty-two, she looked much younger; only fine lines beginning to cluster about her eyes gave any indication of her approximate age.

Those eyes soon saw her.

"Nell!"

She rushed over. Everyone watched in surprise as Rachel hugged Nell like a long-lost friend.

"Uh, hi Ms. Berry!" Nell gasped. The hug was almost crushing.

"Rachel, _please_," she insisted, and Nell rather liked the effect that had on the others. They started to walk down the hall, and she felt the gazes, even the nascent envious, competitive ones.

"I took the liberty of finding available rooms and times to rehearse for us that aren't too late for you, so you can still get your regular work done, and get sleep! Two rooms are available, Tuesdays at seven, and Thursdays at eight!" She stopped, and put her hand to her forehead. "I'm so sorry. I should have asked if you still wanted to do this."

"Oh no, " Nell reassured her, "I'm amazed how you got those kinds of slots at all. I get on the reservation system and all I ever see are slots for two and four AM. I'm so grateful for this."

Rachel looked relieved, almost shy.

"It's my pleasure, truly. I love and miss your uncle, since he spends almost all his time in Milan. I was going to spend my vacation in Italy so I could see him. But then he asked me to talk to you!" She brightened up considerably as she said that; they reached the stairs leading down to the street. Rachel looked at her watch.

"You must be starving! I always was around this time. Let me buy you dinner! We can chat!"

Nell looked down.

"That is too kind, I can't possibly…"

"Nonsense!" snapped Rachel, "It's my pleasure! You can't tell me the dorm food is that good! " Then she touched Nell's arm, saying in a low voice, "I know what it's like coming alone to New York from Nowheresville. Come on, let's eat and talk."

Nell sensed a fleeting shadow pass over Rachel's face as she said that, realizing she was seeing the real person behind the Broadway persona. She _was_ hungry, she had to admit. and, after the last phone conversation with Sarah, Nell was in need of just some pleasant conversation. She nodded in assent.

Rachel surprised her (pleasantly) by suggesting an old student hangout, a burger joint near NYU, that had tables outside, the weather being still nice. They contemplated the menu.

"One of the reasons I suggested this place," Rachel said, "is they serve a wonderful Portobello mushroom burger for us vegetarians. The cheese isn't vegan, but these things are so delicious! Are you vegan or vegetarian?"

Nell shook her head with a smile.

"Our family consists of pretty enthusiastic omnivores," she said, fondly remembering her dad 's legendary summer barbecues.

Rachel nodded, as if remembering something, Nell noticed. She liked how there was no evidence of ideological attitude emanating from her. They placed their orders. Rachel chose the aforementioned Portobello burger. Nell thought she would try one with lamb, a meat they rarely had at home.

"May I ask a personal question, Rachel?"

"Of course," Rachel replied easily.

"Were you friends with my dad? I l know you and Uncle Kurt were in Glee Club with him, but he almost never talks about it. Even Uncle Kurt doesn't talk about it much."

Nell was relieved to see Rachel smile at the memory.

"We were all friends, in Glee, most of the time," she said, sipping at her iced tea. "When we started out, there were only five of us, and we were terrible. Then your dad joined, and got us organized. I guess being the quarterback of the football team helped. More members joined, and that first year he led us to Regionals. The next year we made it to Nationals here in New York, but didn't place. Third year was the charm: your dad led us to First Place in Chicago."

"Wow," Nell said, "But Uncle Kurt said Dad was the _co_-captain."

"I was the other co-captain," Rachel said evenly, but with a modest smile.

"Ah, okay." Nell smiled back, but didn't inquire any further. Her father never mentioned Rachel even once. And he seemed a tad put out when she mentioned Rachel's offer to help. They must have had some competitive/personality issues, she assumed; Rachel seemed her dad's complete opposite. Nell appreciated how Rachel kept the conversation away from her and emphasized her dad instead.

Not that anyone had to elevate Nell's father in her eyes. The family was close-knit and affectionate. Nell took after Finn, both in temperament and affinity for music. During the summers he liked to put together the musical arrangements for upcoming school year, and Nell, even from a young age, loved to watch him laboring over music paper. As she got older, Nell began helping him with the arrangements. Eventually, in the last couple of years, he used many of hers in his classes, and also some of her original compositions. They both loved playing piano as well. Sarah followed Alice's literary bent. Her first choice college was NYU for its well-regarded writer's program. If she got in, the two sisters planned on living together; Sarah would be a freshman, Nell a senior, and Nell planned on staying in New York afterwards.

Their house became a sort of safe, neutral haven for the girls' friends having family issues or single parents working very long hours. Their dinner table always had room for them as well, if necessary. Finn even posted bail for one of their dear friends who got arrested on a minor charge, and whose parents were out of town. He threw in an intimidating lecture for free. He even drove the girls and friends to Dayton for under-twenty-one rock concerts before they had their driver's licenses, staying at an internet café while they enjoyed the show, and taking them home.

Nell once told her father she felt blessed to have the kind of family life many of her friends could only dream about.

Nell and Rachel talked about her classes, and her dreams. Rachel said Tom Foley was coming over to her place for dinner on Wednesday, and particularly wanted to see her. Nell felt a little bold.

"What's it like living with a composer?" she asked with a laugh, "So I can warn any future roommates."

Rachel chuckled, and Nell could see she regarded Tom Foley with great affection.

"We lived together right after college—as you know, he was in the same NYADA program as you—right when he was composing _Mount Olympus Blues. _I was cast as the female lead when we finally went to production a year-and-a half later." She spoke dreamily of that time, clearly enjoying the memory. "There's nothing like being present at the very beginning of a show, when it's nothing more than the outlines of a few songs in the composer's head." She reached over and ruffled Nell's hair. "Like your head will be," she grinned encouragingly. "We would work at all hours in the rehearsal rooms at NYADA because we couldn't afford a decent piano, and Tom refused to compose on anything less than a baby grand. The work had to be squeezed in between our crappy jobs to pay the rent, and sleep became this enemy we kept trying to challenge. The completion of each song was a time to celebrate, with a bottle of scotch." She gave a low chuckle, "The morning after we finished one song, the custodians at NYADA found us, naked and passed out, in one of the rooms."

Nell laughed with her. Rachel Berry was a ball of energy, but down-to-earth and in love, absolutely head-over-heels in love, with music and the process of creating it. Nell loved hearing her tell stories, but absolutely adored her when she leaned forward and said, "I know I'm not the stunning young ingénue everyone roots for anymore, but I can still belt out a tune, and would be honored to work with you on any creation you come up with."

"But you haven't ever heard anything of mine," Nell protested "How do you know if I'm any good?"

Rachel just laughed.

"I listened to all of your audition pieces this morning," she said with a wink. " I kinda have pull, ya know. You're very talented. I should know; I'm very talented, too."

Nell almost knocked over her plate as she jumped up and came around to lock this small, generous woman in a hug.

"Thank you," she whispered.

The last two years had been hard. There were times, trying to keep everything together after her mother died, when Nell felt she was swimming upstream inside a fire hose .

The first two months were the worst. The accident and funeral wore everyone out, and her Dad was having trouble dealing with people. He almost locked himself in his bedroom with a bottle once, but Nell, outside the door, begged him to come out and help her with Sarah, who suddenly couldn't stop weeping, while she made dinner. Her grandmother Carole stepped in and had a kind of intervention with her father, to which she wasn't privy, and for three weeks he and the girls went to their grandparents' after school and had dinner there.

Sometimes Nell felt as if she wasn't getting the time she needed to process her own mother's death. The three of them had to come up with a completely different routine to get everything done, and her Dad, who by then was getting help at the VA and was taking medications that actually worked, was working full time at the school, but often worked longer hours because he still had problems concentrating, and it took him more time to get everything done. So Nell took on more tasks at home, as did Sarah. Everyone in their once happy family started suffering from exhaustion.

Despite this, both girls managed to do well in school the first year, and going into the second year, all three of them felt that a recovery, of sorts, was underway. Aside from her Dad's strange reluctance to allow her to go to NYADA (her uncle Kurt finally convinced him it was a good thing, especially when it looked like Nell's suite of scholarships, grants and savings amounted to almost a full ride), everything seemed to be much better. But then, two months before she had to leave for New York, her father started having bouts of insomnia. By the time she left, different medications had begun to work, but the sleeplessness had taken a physical toll. He was gaunt; Sarah was under orders to fatten him up. And now, according to Sarah his "moments" were becoming more frequent.

Sarah, now a trouper, promised to let her and Uncle Kurt know if things started going south again.

But for now, Nell Hudson was happy. It seemed, in this huge city, she had found the perfect mentor. They split a huge slice of (non-vegan) chocolate cake to celebrate.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sort of a transitional chapter. **

Nell Hudson didn't dress up very often, but when she did, people noticed. That was one of the perks of having a world-class dress designer for an uncle. Uncle Kurt had been promising to design some dresses for her and her sister, but tonight, to meet Tom Foley at Rachel's place, she was wearing a dress designed for her mother. It had been one of her non-formal favorites, and because Nell and Alice were the same size and body type, it fit perfectly: a simple but elegant brushed-silk knee-length dress in a deep, warm Lincoln green, with pumps of the same color.

When she came out of the dorm bathroom, hair down around her shoulders and makeup perfect, Nell Hudson drew some stares. Most of the kids on the floor knew who she was going to meet, and some of the stares, like the ones in the hall on Monday, couldn't hide the calculation behind them.

There was one stare, however, with which she had no problem. In the lounge area of her floor she passed a good-looking, pleasant acting student named Graham, who had shown some interest in her, but hadn't actually made a move yet. As she passed him, Nell returned his definitely appreciative stare with a wisp of an encouraging smile. His stare morphed immediately into a shy smile in return, which she held long enough to get the message across. In the elevator she thought about her dad's Gurkha knife and grinned, glad Graham would be spared that particular humiliation. Unfortunately, thinking about her father brought reality back.

She was deeply worried about him. At this point, however, Nell wasn't sure what she could do about it. The good news was, according to Sarah, he wasn't acting like he had when her mom died. His "moments" were still emotional—Sarah found him crying and staring in the kitchen—but he didn't seem depressed anymore, just….sad. His insomnia was worrisome still, though: Nell didn't want his health to deteriorate. Sara said she was planning a weekend of his favorite foods (mostly from the pizza and bacon food groups) so hopefully he wouldn't lose any more weight. Without any more information, Nell decided to relax and enjoy the evening.

Rachel sent a car to pick her up, which raised even more eyebrows, but which delighted her no end. It whisked her to Rachel's apartment building, and a doorman, after inquiring who she was, checked by intercom, and waved her inside. She lived on the tenth floor, and welcomed Nell at the door with a hug.

"Come in! Come in!" She was wearing a comfortable blue dress and flats, and her hair in a simple braid.

The apartment was smaller than she imagined, but comfortable, in muted colors, with framed posters of her musicals on the walls. A glass case, on one wall by an expensive-looking stereo in the living room held her three Tonys.

A man stood in the small dining room, dressed in a simple black suit and open white short. He was small and compact, with curly, sandy-colored hair, and intense blue eyes behind round, horn-rimmed glasses. He rushed over before Rachel could introduce her, and held out his hand.

"You must be Nell Hudson," he said warmly, " I'm Tom Foley, glad to meet you."

Nell feeling a bit star struck, blushed, and shook his hand.

"I'm honored," she said quietly and he just smiled.

"In a few more years," Tom said, "The honor will be entirely mine."

Rachel pretended to swoon, and Nell couldn't help but relax into a fit of giggles with her.

Dinner was some delicate steak strips with rice and asparagus for Nell and Tom, and some kind of risotto and steamed vegetable casserole for Rachel. It was delicious, and the two guests praised the chef effusively over a nice Cabernet. Nell's uncle had taught her well about good wine, and, before she really knew it, the feeling of being from Nowheresville evaporated. Nell felt like this was the kind of place that she belonged.

"I love your name," Rachel said, "It's short for Eleanor, isn't it?"

"Yes," Nell said, "I'm named after my grandmother, and my middle name is Carole, after my other grandmother."

Tom told Nell he had listened to her audition tapes as well, and like Rachel, was impressed.

"But you're not particularly interested in musical theatre, are you?"

"I told you he was smart," Rachel, with whom Nell had already confided, stage-whispered at her with a wink.

"I want to write operas, actually," Nell replied, and Tom gave her a high-five of respect.

"Rachel has done opera before, did you know that?" Nell shook her head, as Rachel blushed, and Tom told the story of how she had won the lead role in a Benjamin Britten opera when she was a junior at NYADA.

"In fact, that was how we met. I saw her performance, and asked her to be the female lead in my first professional musical."

Tom and Rachel had an easy, affectionate relationship, Nell noticed. They also clearly respected the hell out of each other's talent. There was no evidence, however, of a current romantic attachment between them. It turned out Tom was married to the well-known choreographer Emily Lauder, who was currently working on a ballet in London. The three of them had collaborated on two Tony-winning musicals, and even lived together in the same apartment while working on them, which had become this Broadway legend of sorts. Nell couldn't imagine how that could have been emotionally stable, but apparently it was.

Tom offered to work with Nell when he could, as well. Nell, who was overwhelmed by this point, finally asked why everyone was being so kind to her.

"You're practically family," Rachel explained, reiterating how much she loved her uncle Kurt.

"And if Rachel is as fond of you as she says, then Emily and I have to be as well, that's just the way it works with us," Tom said.

At the end of the evening Tom offered to have his cab take Nell to her dorm, and Nell got another hug from Rachel as they left.

"Thank you so much, Rachel," Nell said, 'I'm kind of overwhelmed."

"That's okay," Rachel said, patting her on the back, "It's my pleasure. Truly"

On the way Nell asked Tom how long he and Rachel had been together, even though she already knew.

"Five years," he replied easily. Then she realized he was looking at her intently. "I wanted more from her than she could give, that's what you really wanted to know, right?" He said it kindly.

She was embarrassed, and said nothing more except to thank him for a lovely time.

.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Edited to correct an egregious misquote of Rachel**

Around six o'clock Friday evening, Finn texted Sarah to tell her he was finally getting out of school, and when he got home, found her in the kitchen with a frozen pizza in the oven.

"Bless you, child," he said, hugging her. "Are you having dinner with me? You look like you're ready to go out." She was dressed in jeans and a nice green sweater.

"I'll eat with you, " she replied, smiling, "but Betty's mom is dropping us off at the movies, where we'll be meeting Frank and Jerry."

He said nothing, but gave her his "more detail, please" look. Sarah sighed good-naturedly.

"Frank is the only one of us with a license, Dad, and he got into an intensely long tennis match with Jerry at school, so he was late and asked if Betty and I could meet them at the movies and he'd bring us home."

Finn stood there, still not saying anything. Sarah finally broke out giggling.

"_If_ it's okay with you, that is."

He delivered an anti-climactic "Sure." Then he joined her laughing. Sarah, Frank, Betty and her boyfriend Jerry were all on the tennis team together. And Frank seemed nice enough for Finn to dial back the Scary Dad routine. He went upstairs to get changed, and when he came back down, Sarah had served up the pizza, sausage and mushroom, his favorite, along with water for herself ("the Cokes at the theatre are huge!") and a beer for him.

They were going to see two old John Carpenter cult films: _Ghosts of Mars _and, one of Finn's all-time favorites, _Prince of Darkness_. He loved how the multiplex theater reserved one of its twenty screens for art and cult films on weekends. He and Alice had seen _Dr. Strangelove_ there a week before she died.

It felt warm and peaceful there in the kitchen, talking about movies with his daughter. He knew people who hated their children's adolescence; he could not relate. To Finn, seeing his girls turn into intelligent, fascinating adults before his eyes was a joy, even though it meant they were on the verge of leaving him for college and life. Lately, he worried about what he was going to do with himself when they were gone-being alone hadn't been in the plan. One night, a week or so before Nell left for NYADA, while the girls were discussing their plans to live together in New York, he jokingly—well, _half-_jokingly—asked if he could move to New York and live with them. They laughed with him, but he saw tears brimming in both their eyes.

Friends and colleagues tried to set him up of course, but frankly, the thought of having to start all over was exhausting. _Life_ was exhausting.

She gave him a hug on the way out, and asked him if he was going to be okay. He said of course, and watched her get into the car with Betty and her mom, and waved. He went into the living room and plopped on the couch, tuning in to the McKinley vs Carmel football game on cable. The score was already seventeen zip Carmel, and he sighed, planning on closing his eyes for just a moment.

She was well into her second Irish coffee when she informed him that he was the third lover in her life, and that she was grateful he was the last. It was a cold, rainy, dreary day in San Francisco, but the bar in Ghirardelli Square had a roaring fire going, and windows with a sweeping view of Alcatraz and the Golden Gate under glowering clouds. Their honeymoon had been a weekend in San Francisco, and the weather had actually been perfect for that. He was working on his third bourbon, and told her that _technically_, she was his third lover, too, although the first was so awful and meaningless that it didn't even count as a one night stand, let alone a relationship. He also requested that Afghanistan be erased from consideration; the three drunken visits to brothels and four meaningless dates were a source of shame to him, even if they were the result of understandable, relentless loneliness.

She asked him about his second lover. He said that she was sweet and beautiful, but that it ended badly, and insisted on talking about them instead, because he liked the idea of Alice Hudson being his last, too.

The television was showing local news when Finn awoke. He contemplated going to bed early, but decided that would be giving in to whatever had been bothering him lately, so he got up off the couch, and went outside to sit on his porch with another beer and wearing his OSU Lima sweatshirt. He was left pretty much to himself; the walkers in the neighborhood had all gone home by then. Cedar wood was burning in some neighbor's fireplace, and he sat on the steps of the yellow house, enjoying the fragrant scent. A few hardy insects still gathered around the streetlight, and he even saw some bats taking advantage of it. The wind rustled through the leaves, making a mockery of his attempts at raking.

"Nobody likes me."

The voice came and went, playfully hiding amongst the leaves tumbling and scurrying across his lawn.

"I like you," he whispered back automatically, entranced.

There was an instant he felt that she was his last lover, as if, in some jury-rigged universe, he had done the honorable thing and married her, and taken the leap to New York and embraced their life together in that shoebox apartment, and had babies with her and ask her to sing for him every day and never, ever, thought about taking his own life.

A car passed slowly by, breaking the spell. Some leaves blew onto the porch and into his lap. Space-time snapped back into place, and he was left with the insects, the bats, the leaves. The innocent spirit of his wife took her rightful place again.

He worried that his emotional infrastructure was being eroded away.

That feeling soon passed, though. Finishing his beer, Finn went back inside. He washed the bottle out and then went into the garage to put it in the glass recycling bin. He stumbled against some shelving full of miscellaneous crap the family had accumulated over the years.

"Oh, I could never make you nervous."

He looked down. His hand was resting on an old, forgotten shoebox.

Sarah got home at midnight. She almost missed seeing her father asleep on the couch. He looked peaceful, so she decided to get him a blanket and pillow, to take advantage of this break in his insomnia without waking him up. When she came back with them, she noticed something on the carpet by his outstretched hand.

It was a picture.


	8. Chapter 8

The date with Graham was going swimmingly when Nell's phone buzzed with a text. It was from Sarah, but apparently not an emergency about her dad:

_***Call me ASAP (not 911)* **_

She waited until after he dropped her off at her room, about 1 AM, to call.

"What's so important, sis?"

"Oh man," Sarah sounded strange, "I'm glad you called. I'm sending you something in your email. Call me back after you look at it."

Nell's roommate, Mary, was asleep, so she changed into pajamas and robe and went into the lounge area, wondering what the hell was going on. She found the email on her phone, and opened the attachment.

It had been taken at a dance, apparently, possibly on someone's phone, and printed later. Her father, who looked impossibly young to her, was dancing with a small girl, who was delicately placing her cheek against his chest. Both were wearing crowns. It must have been the Prom, Nell thought. Wait. Her dad was Prom King? Dad? The photographer caught him looking down at her at almost the perfect moment, his eyes filled with adoration. The girl's eyes were half closed, and Nell could almost hear her sighing with love. It was a tender, exquisitely intimate moment, and Nell was so caught up in the beauty of it that at first the identity of the girl didn't register immediately. When it did, she almost dropped the phone.

"Where did you get this?" Nell demanded.

"When I came home tonight, Dad was asleep on the couch, and this was on the floor by him. I have no idea where it came from." Sarah sounded puzzled. "What the hell does it mean, Nell? Based on your description of her, that girl is Rachel Berry, right? I thought you said Rachel told you that they were only co-captains of the Glee Club, and friends. This picture sure as hell tells a different story."

"I have no idea…yet," Nell said. "Did you put the picture back after you scanned it?"

"Yeah. But should I say anything about it to him? He's never mentioned Rachel before. I wonder if thinking about her has been affecting him lately."

Good question, Nell thought. All along they assumed he had been relapsing over their mother. What if he was thinking about an old love instead?

It was quiet on the line for a moment. Sarah continued.

"Do you think he wants to get back together with Rachel?"

"Maybe. Who knows?"

" And what about Mom? Part of me hurts thinking about him and anyone else, you know?"

"I know. Me too. But he doesn't deserve to be alone the rest of his life, either."

Sarah was quiet for a moment before just saying "Yeah. So what should I do? Pretend I never saw it? I feel bad enough telling you."

Nell didn't know. This was too weird. She sighed. For a few hours that night, out for dinner and a walk with Graham, she didn't have a care in the world. Like she felt before her mother died. But now, worrying about her father again, the weight of responsibility came back on her shoulders. And it was getting even more complicated now that she had gotten to know Rachel. She wasn't sure what to do, because she couldn't risk making things worse. She needed to know more.

"I think you could bring it up as casually as you can," Nell said, feeling like she was about to step into a minefield, "And gauge his reaction. If he clams up, just don't press it. What do you think?"

"I can do that," Sarah said. Then laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"It's just weird, thinking of him having loved somebody other than mom. And that you are working with her. And neither of them is acknowledging what they once meant to each other. There has to be a novel in there, somewhere!"

Nell chuckled. It was true.

"And you'll be the one to write it, sis," she said, and added, "I can't wait til you get here. I miss you."

"I miss you, too. Tell me all about Graham tomorrow, when I fill you in. I'm going to call Uncle Kurt as well, come to think about it."

Yeah, Nell thought. Uncle Kurt. He knew about this, and yet still had me meet Rachel anyway. Maybe it's not as complicated after all.

**XXXXxxxxxx**

His eyes opened, and the first thing on his mind was how it was light outside. For the last few weeks, Finn was used to waking up at all hours, off-and-on, throughout the night. Sometimes, once awake, he couldn't go back to sleep. That meant being alone, in a dark house, with just his thoughts. He hated that. Seeing light, therefore, meant he had an unbroken night's sleep!

Then he realized he was on the couch. And what he had been doing on the couch before he fell asleep. The picture had fallen on the floor; he put it in his pocket and tottered to the bathroom, then headed for the kitchen. He smelled coffee.

Sarah was sitting at the table in her pajamas, drinking coffee and reading a book. She looked up.

"Good morning, baby," Finn said, helping himself. He wondered if she had seen the picture, "Have a good time last night?"

"Hi Dad, " she said, giving him a smile that almost made him give a double-take, she looked so much like her mother. "Yeah, the movies were cool. What about you? I'm glad you got some sleep, even if it was the couch."

"I guess I dozed off," he replied. Maybe she hadn't seen it.

She jumped up, saying," Sit there, I'm making breakfast."

Finn watched her moving about the kitchen, cooking up bacon and eggs, and they chatted about the tennis team. Sarah caught him unawares when, as her back was turned, she asked, "So, you were Prom King?"

Busted. He laughed.

"I found the picture when I stumbled and knocked open an old shoebox in the garage," he said.

"The girl looks like Rachel Berry, Dad." Sarah brought over their plates ands sat down across from him. She tried to sound casual. "Looks like you two were an item."

Finn didn't quite know what happened then. The night before, as he fell asleep looking that the picture, all he could think of was the shame and regret, and that awful moment in the motel room with her letter, the bottle, and the gun. But his sleep had been restful and refreshing, and now, in the morning sunshine, his daughter sitting across from him, he felt differently.

He pulled out the picture and looked at it again. The usual feelings of dread and regret when he thought of her eased somewhat. The memory of how she smelled that night only ached now, instead of feeling like a hot knife, and he found himself with a faraway smile.

"Yeah," he said, softly, as Sarah carefully gauged him, "We sure were."

Sarah regarded all of this with mixed feelings. Something happened between them, she knew, something so bad that they seemed hell bent on trying to act as if they barely knew each other. On the one hand, had this never happened, she and her sister would not exist today. On the other hand, her father looked intensely happy in that picture, much as he appeared when her mother was alive. That was gone now. Underlying everything, from his tired eyes to the faint undertone of his voice, was a deep sadness that broke her heart. She decided to risk one more question, prepared to drop it if it caused him any pain. She couldn't bear the thought of adding to it.

"You don't have to answer this, Dad," she began carefully, "But what happened between you and Rachel?"

He didn't seem to react one way or another, just ran his hand through his hair.

"It's complicated," he said.

She left it that. For now.


	9. Chapter 9

Kurt was relaxing again at home when his phone buzzed. Ah…his snitch.

"Hi Uncle Kurt!"

"Well, if it isn't my favorite niece," he answered,. He called both of them his favorite. And they always laughed when he did so. Sarah chuckled on cue. "What's up?"

"Listen…Dad's outside in the garden, and wants me to help him, so I have only a little time. "

"Okay…is anything wrong?"

Sarah was blunt.

"Why didn't you tell Nell about Rachel's relationship with Dad? He found a picture of him and Rachel at the Prom, and fell asleep on the couch with it, and I came in and found it on the floor!"

Kurt was calm.

"I didn't tell her because it's complicated, and I know Rachel would not do anything to hurt Nell."

"Is 'complicated' a euphemism for something, Uncle Kurt?" Sarah was sounding angry.

"Look," Kurt said, "I'll tell you this: your Father and Rachel loved each other very much once, and it was incredibly painful—devastating, in fact- to both of them when it ended. But each dealt with it and moved on. Your Dad found happiness, Sarah. Your mother, rest her beautiful soul, was the best thing that ever happened to him, and you and your sister are the blessings from that."

"I know , Uncle Kurt," she said, "But I'm beginning to think Dad might be having feelings for Rachel again. It's just a hunch." There was a pause on the line. "You know Rachel. Do you think she could have feelings for Dad? "

"I doubt it, honey." No point in building false hope.

He had enough of that for everybody.

**XXXXxxxxxxxx **

On Saturday morning Nell called Rachel and asked if she could come by. Rachel said of course. She met Nell at the door and ushered her in to the living room, where they sat on the couch. Nell could see Rachel was reading her expression and getting concerned.

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

"I hope so…" Nell hoped her telling what she knew didn't ruin everything. But she had to let Rachel know what she knew, because Rachel must have been stressed by her questioning before. She wanted Rachel to be able to relax, at least over that. Of course, part of her wanted to know why they broke up, but that was secondary.

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm aware of your relationship with my dad. I didn't want you to have to tiptoe around the subject anymore. Assuming you're still willing to work with me."

Rachel smiled easily.

"What do you know?" She looked at Nell with neither anger nor suspicion. "Just in case its inaccurate? We can't work together until we can trust each other, right? " Nell nodded, and Rachel added, "Of course, I reserve the right to declare certain aspects of it off-limits. For example, I won't get into why or how we broke up. Okay?" She was still smiling pleasantly, and Nell believed she was being sincere.

"Okay," she said.

So Nell told her about Sarah's finding of the picture. She felt immediately bad; describing that scene, Rachel's face at first softened, remembering the moment, but it didn't last.

"Okay," Rachel said, "We were Prom King and Queen, and we loved each other. Is that all you know, other than it ended badly?" Nell nodded.

"Do you want to know anything about that moment, or the relationship itself other than that? "

Nell shook her head, then planned on apologizing, but Rachel apparently decided to talk.

"I fell in love with him when I was fifteen. He was the quarterback of the football team, and I was a nobody, but he loved me anyway. He was my first real friend. It lasted three years, and it ended, right after high school. I have neither seen nor heard from him since. You have to believe that."

"I do", Nell said. She got up suddenly. "Look. I'm sorry. I- I just wanted to make it less awkward."

"And find out more," Rachel said gently.

Nell looked down sheepishly. "I'm pretty protective, when it comes to Dad," she said. "Uncle Kurt says the breakup was devastating to you both."

Rachel shrugged, then answered carefully: "I was devastated, but I can only speak for myself." She gave Nell a sad look. "At the time, part of me hoped he was devastated, too. I gain no comfort now, knowing that he was." And then she looked up and smiled, genuinely, and Nell knew she and Rachel were still good.

But she was still worried about her dad.

**XXXXxxxxxxxx**

He was sitting in her chair, under the oak. The tree hadn't lost many of its leaves yet, so it still offered him shade; Indian Summer was in full swing. He decided to give up on the garden work; Alice had been much better with the flowers than him, and told him so.

"I'm beginning to think you have a black thumb," she said. They were in that bar in San Francisco again, where they always were when he talked with her. "Thank goodness Sarah doesn't."

"She wears her hair like you did when we first met," he told her, and she smiled at him from across the table.

"I'm glad you still remember me."

He was shocked.

"How could you think I would ever forget you? I love you."

"I know," she said, toying with her drink. He realized what she meant before she clarified:

"That's how the dead live, you know, through memory. It's all we have."

"I won't forget you," he whispered, "I promise."

She looked out the window at a rain squall sweeping in from the ocean, at the whitecaps on the choppy gray water of the Bay.

"You want to move on," she said. "I can sense it."

"Yes," he replied, heartbroken, because it felt like a betrayal, a sullying of his vows. "But I'm afraid."

Her gaze was on him again, this time with love, kindness, understanding and that elusive hint of amusement that only the dead can give the living.

"Afraid of what? That you don't love me enough to want to remain alone for the rest of your life?"

Finn looked stricken, because that was exactly how he felt. He nodded, dumbly.

Alice shook her head slowly.

"You poor, poor, ridiculous man," she murmured. "I know you. I love you. I want you to be happy, not alone."

She ordered another Irish coffee, because she always said the ones at that bar tasted better than any she ever had.

"Is it Rachel?"

"Yes."

She touched his arm and smiled.

"Good," she said.

The warm breeze blew through the trees in the yard. He was alone again, sprawled in her chair.

"I love you," he told her, because he never felt he told her enough when she was alive. He hoped her Irish coffee was good.

Sarah went outside to join Finn in the garden, but found him sitting in her mother's chair, deep in thought.

He looked up as she approached, and motioned her to sit in his chair, a couple of feet away. He was staring at his feet, stretched way out in front of him.

"I shouldn't have blown you off with that old 'it's complicated' crap. I'm sorry."

Sarah just nodded. He pulled out his phone and called Nell, who was on her way back from Rachel's by that time, and asked her if they could have a Skype session that afternoon, because he wanted to discuss the picture and answer their questions.

"You're my girls," he said, winking at Sarah, "And I want you comfortable with your old man again."


	10. Chapter 10

"Geez, Dad, eat a cheeseburger or something, will you?" Nell didn't like the way her father looked on screen.

"Don't worry," Sarah piped up, "I'm on it."

"Okay, Finn said, "Now that we're all set up, I want to start out by saying how sorry I am for acting so weird lately, starting with giving you grief over NYADA, Nell." Nell didn't reply, just gave a chuck of her head in acknowledgement.

"Hopefully, what I have to say will explain my behavior, but not excuse it." He paused, gathering his thoughts. Then he began.

"When I was a sophomore in high school, I was on top of the world. I was quarterback of the football team and dating the head cheerleader, named Quinn Fabray. I didn't know who Rachel Berry even was, and even if I did, I probably wouldn't be caught dead being seen with her."

"Why?" Nell asked.

"She was a loner, who wore animal sweaters and short skirts with leg warmers and knee socks. She didn't date, as far as I knew, and spent time taking dance, acting and vocal lessons. She had two gay dads, and her dream was to sing on Broadway, so she uploaded videos of her singing to a social network page called MySpace, which isn't around anymore, much like Facebook before Google became essentially the social network monopoly. Kids, Quinn included, teased her mercilessly about them, and some openly threw slushies in her face at school."

"Good grief, Dad, was McKinley really that bad before Figgins and Sylvester got arrested and sent up the river? " Sarah was intrigued. Both she and Nell had attended McKinley, and legend has it that Figgins and Sylvester,as principal and vice principal, were finally arrested and convicted for corruption and child abuse.

"It was even worse, " Finn said, shaking his head at the memories of just how outrageously awful that school was.

"For example, I was blackmailed into joining the Glee Club by its director, Will Schuester."

"No way!" Both girls spoke at the same time.

"Yeah. He planted pot, which he got from the former director of the club, in my locker and threatened to tell Figgins if I didn't join. He needed for the club to place at Regionals if it was to survive, and he heard me singing in the locker room after football practice."

Nell imagined Sarah taking mental notes. There had to be a novel, or at least a television show in this, surely.

"I met Rachel at my first Glee club rehearsal."

Nell felt surprisingly tender at hearing this. She and her sister had always loved her mother and father telling them about how they met and fell in love in college, fighting in the bookstore over the last copy of a textbook they both needed for a class. There was something magical, even sacred, about the moment when two lovers first meet, that moment which eternally marks the Before from the After. She never expected to feel anything about her father meeting anyone else. But she was starting to realize that what her father and Rachel had may have rivaled—or even exceeded—what he had with her mother. A sudden pang of guilt set in, making her almost dread hearing any more. But she had come to respect Rachel as a friend and an artist. She wanted to understand Rachel's loneliness, even if it meant finding out that her father was behind it.

"When she sang, I felt it, right in my heart." So their initial connection was over music? Interesting. Mom never showed much interest in the subject, or the aptitude; she was always embarrassed when asked to join in the singing that Sarah , Nell and her father loved.

"So, what about the girlfriend, Quinn?" Sarah was definitely probing for the plot here.

Finn looked wistful.

"She got pregnant, and convinced me that I was the father, even though it was my best friend, Puck."

"Uncle Puck?" Both girls, who knew Puck well, couldn't believe it.

"Yeah. But when the truth came out, Quinn and I were over, and Rachel and I got together. It had its problems, but eventually, by the end of junior year, it settled into a full-blown love affair."

As he spoke, Nell could see her father become more animated. It was as if a weight had been lifted.

"Not like me and Jimmy Hodges, right?" Nell had been seriously in love with one boy in high school, but the bastard dumped her for a winsome cross-country runner. He was welcome to her now; Graham was turning out to be a delightful replacement.

"No, I'm afraid not," Finn said, "Not even close, in fact."

"But 'full-blown'? What does that mean, exactly?" Sarah looked intrigued.

Both girls saw their father take a deep breath.

"I asked her to marry me."

"In high school?" Nell couldn't believe it.

"So, all of this is because Rachel turned you down?" To Sarah, that was the only sane response.

Their father looked pained, but spoke anyway.

"No, the problem was, Rachel accepted my proposal."

There was silence; a very awkward silence. Finn went on to describe the family reactions and first wedding fiasco to his increasingly incredulous children.

"Wow Dad," Sarah tried to break the tension with a joke, "Can I bring this up when Frank brings me home later than agreed?"

Finn gave her the _look_, and Sarah raised her hands in surrender, "Okay, okay…"

Nell, for her part, was shocked at the thought of her father almost becoming a teenage husband to Rachel, but also fascinated. Her dad had just outlined what was, in essence, the possibility of an alternate timeline, a set of choices that could have taken everything in a completely different direction, a future in which she and her sister would never have existed. But something happened to change it.

"But you never did get married. What happened?"

He told them of the plan to get married after graduation, and Rachel getting into NYADA, Kurt not being accepted, and him not getting into Pace.

"I was feeling pretty bad, but then Rachel decided to defer her admission one year to help us get our applications for schools in New York ready, so we could all be together there."

"She must have really loved you," Nell said quietly, thinking she was about to witness a tragedy.

Her father lowered his head now.

"Yes, she did. And I convinced myself that I was simply getting in the way of her dreams. On the day we were to be married, I drove her instead to the train station, told her I couldn't go through with it, that I couldn't stand in the way of her becoming a star, and that we need to be apart while we reached our dreams. I told her I was joining the army to redeem my own father, and put her on a train to New York."

"Dad," Nell said, as Sarah just held her hand over her mouth, "That is seriously fucked up."

"Yeah, I know. And it gets worse. "

"I don't know if I can hear anymore," Sarah said, tears on her face.

Nell held up her hand.

"Wait. Rachel told me that she hasn't heard from you since the breakup, which she never described, by the way. Does she mean you never communicated with her after the train station? "

Finn nodded.

"She tried to contact me, but I realized I had gone about everything all wrong, and came to the conclusion that I didn't really love her the way she deserved to be loved, and the shame of how I treated her stopped me from replying. After I got out of the army she sent me one last letter, saying she had given up." The pain in his eyes looked excruciating, Nell thought.

"My God, Dad, this is so sad," Sarah looked stricken.

Her father suddenly looked old to her, weighed down by time and regret and memory.

"When I was with your mother, I didn't feel any holes or gaps in my life. Raising you two made my life all the more complete. She, and you, made me happy. Now that she's gone, I realize there are two holes in my life now." He paused, then said,

"Rachel made me happy, too."

Did he really want to try with Rachel again? Now that she finally knew why Rachel was reluctant to talk about it, Nell had her doubts Rachel would even consider it. She also decided that the last thing her dad and Rachel needed was her meddling with their affairs. True, she was sort of caught in the middle, working with Rachel and all, but that's all she planned on doing-for the time being.

"Dad," Nell said, "Sarah and I want you to be happy, and we don't want you to be alone. Whatever you decide to do here, we'll support you, but I have to say, I'm gonna speak up if you want to try something as awful as that train station thing, okay?" She gave him an encouraging smile.

"I appreciate that," he said, as Sarah put her arms around him. They signed off.

Nell sat back on her bed. All she had wanted was some help with her dancing.

**XXXXxxxxx**

On Tuesday, Rachel watched Nell's dance moves carefully. Her dad may have been exaggerating, she thought with a smile. Nell's biggest problem, however, wasn't in coordination, but in flexibility. She suggested trying some stretches together.

"If you're more limber, the transitions will be easier, and thusw ill appear smoother," she said.

Nell watched her stretch easily, wryly commenting how embarrassing it was to be less flexible than a forty-two year old woman. In the rehearsal-room mirror, the two women could not have looked more different, despite wearing almost identical simple black leotards. But they wore the same expression, a relaxed enjoyment of the tasks at hand, and their banter was easy.

Looking at Nell in the mirror, Rachel kept seeing Finn in her: the height, the facial structure, even some of the mannerisms, such as running her hand back over her hair when she was at a loss for words, and, the spookiest of all, an occasional half smile. She was laid-back like her father, too, but tended to focus intensely on a routine or move until she mastered it. Best of all, though, Nell Hudson was her own person, pleasant, articulate, and talented.

When they were done changing, Nell asked if they could move to a piano room she knew might be open.

"I have a few pieces,-sketches really-for some arias, and I wondered if you could give the ones for a soprano voice a run. It's so much better hearing someone sing them, you know, rather than just having the idea in your head, or on paper."

"I'd love to," Rachel said, delighted. Nell had the right instincts for this, she thought: Tom used to say that all of the time. And she was driven.

It was inevitable, she supposed, that this would happen. On the way to the room, Rachel suddenly wondered what her children with Finn would have been like. When she and Finn were together, she imagined them all of the time, their looks mannerisms, quirks, and in all the scenarios she also envisioned Finn being the loving father she knew he would be. Now, seeing one of his actual children, and how well she had been raised and loved, Rachel felt a sudden, wounding pain of loss, and, in an irrational flash, found herself envying Alice Hudson her life with him. Fortunately, the shame of envying the dead snapped her out of it. Alice Hudson, along with Nell and Sarah, were true innocents in all of this. They couldn't help representing the life Rachel had wished for herself, once. But Nell also embodied some of the best of Finn, and, after years of dwelling on the worst of him, Rachel decided to embrace this remarkable young woman for what she was, and, if working with her also helped get Rachel even a tiny fraction of closure regarding her father, so much the better.

Nell was a nimble, intuitive piano player, and her pieces were surprisingly difficult for sounding so melodic. The librettos were in English, and Rachel reveled in the way they managed to caress and stretch her voice at the same time. The two of them had a marvelous time.

They made an almost immediate musical connection, the irony of which was not lost on either of them.

**XXXxxxxx **

They had been lovers, once. Looking at them now, strolling through Central Park, arm-in-arm, it was obvious that they still held deep affection for one another. The relaxed smiles on their faces, easy laughter at the other's jokes, the way she leaned into him every now and then; all evidence of one of those rare human situations, of a man and a woman surviving the end of a love affair and forging an enduring friendship.

"Nell knows about me and Finn," Rachel said, "at least, she knows we loved each other once."

"Does she know everything?" Tom asked, curious. "She asked about you and me, how long we were together, in the cab home after dinner that night, you know."

Rachel looked at him. "What did you tell her?"

"She didn't want to know how long we were together, Rachel. She wanted to know why we weren't together anymore."

"And?" She raised her eyebrows.

"I simply said I wanted more from you than you could give."

That was the truth, of course. But she appreciated his not giving Nell all the details.

"You're a good friend, Tom," she said, but she meant much more than that. Although he seemed to take the compliment at face value, she knew he understood what she truly wanted to say.

"You really like Nell, don't you?" He saw her nod, happily.

"Oh yes. She is a delight. We worked on some aria sketches she had, and hit it off musically right away. Almost exactly the same way you and I did." Tom smiled warmly. "That's why I don't want the baggage between me and her father to damage it."

"Do you think she might have entertained the idea of you and Finn, even before she knew about your real relationship? "

Rachel shrugged. "I don't know. But she is very protective of him, I know that."

They strolled a little further, and passed a cotton-candy vendor. He asked if she'd like one, and she giggled, but declined. There was a hint of a twinge in his chest; she had a weakness for the treat, and he always used to buy it for her when they were together. But not anymore. He was used to these little moments occurring now and then.

Maybe she felt it too. She stopped, and looked him in the eyes.

"I would have married you, you know that, right?" She seemed lost right then, just like she was when she told him she couldn't marry him, all those years ago. Something inside of him ached, because he knew how lonely she truly was.

"I know," he said.

"I would have made him happy," she muttered, suddenly adding, venomously, "That son of a bitch."

Shocked, he watched her dance around a bit in frustration, shaking her fist at the sky. Then she did something curious. Rachel flipped the sky off, then jabbed her index finger at it. She stopped, actually looking as if she felt better.

"IF Emily doesn't mind," she said, smiling, "Could you buy me that cotton-candy now?"

He laughed.

"Sure. But first you have to tell me something. What does this- he mimicked her flipping off the sky then pointing at it—mean?"

"Well," she said mischievously, "There's an old story behind it. Do I really have to tell it before I get my candy?"

"I'm afraid so," he replied, chuckling.

"Okay. There was this young cowboy, who had been out on the trail for weeks, on his way to a nearby town for the weekend. He had just been paid, and was looking forward to a great time. Just outside of town, he rode by an old, solemn Cheyenne chief, sitting cross-legged on a blanket by the trail. Being in a good mood, the young cowboy waved and said 'Howdy'. The chief simply gave him the finger, then jabbed his index finger at him as well. The cowboy, shocked, rode off, wondering what the hell he had done.

After a great weekend, the cowboy was on his way back when he found the same old chief sitting where he had met him before. Maybe the old guy was in bad mood when we met, the cowboy thought, so he waved and said 'Howdy' again. The chief did the same thing he had done before. Well, _that_ pissed the cowboy off.

'Listen, chief, " he said angrily, "I know what this—he gave the finger—means, but what the hell does _this_—pointing—mean?'

The old chief flipped him off again, and said, 'Fuck you.' Then he jabbed his index finger again. 'Horse, too.'"

The two of them stood, holding onto each other, roaring with laughter. He bought her the candy, blue of course, and they continued the walk.

"I have to keep reminding myself that Finn ended this," she explained. "I could only beg for communication for so long without giving up."

"But you haven't given up, really, have you?" He knew her well—too well.

She hung her head. "I'm a fool, aren't I?" She sat on a nearby bench, and took a bite of cotton candy, trying to stop from crying. He put his arm around her.

"There's only one fool in that relationship, he said, "And it isn't you."

"I don't know," she said. "I passed up on one of the good guys—you—while he found another soul mate, and had two beautiful children. Who's the fool?"

"He lost his wife, Rachel," Tom said, gently, "And you've never given up on loving him. Maybe Nell senses that. Don't you think it's time you at least try and find out why he abandoned you the way he did? Meet with him. Ask him. And if he refuses to answer, or if he says he doesn't want to try again, or if he truly doesn't love you anymore, you'll at least know you tried everything you could. Then come back to us." He hugged her then. "Emily and I will comfort you, and we'll find a way to make you happy again. I promise. "

It was at that moment that Rachel, not for the first time, knew Tom was the rarest of friends. She clung to him, fiercely.

"Tom?" she asked, before they resumed their stroll.

"Yes?"

"Can you love someone and yet not forgive him?"

"I don't think so," Tom said, "But then, you can't forgive him if you don't really know why he did what he did, now can you?"

He had a point.


	11. Chapter 11

A couple of weeks before Thanksgiving, Rachel and Nell received beautiful cards, in elegant embossed envelopes, each containing a round-trip, first-class airline ticket to Dayton Airport the Wednesday before the holiday.

Nell's read:

_**To my favorite niece. **_

_**Happy Thanksgiving!**_

_**Love, **_

_**Uncle Kurt**_

Rachel's said:

_**To my best diva:**_

_**Thanks for offering and doing so much, from your huge heart, for my favorite niece. **_

_**Love,**_

_**Kurt**_

Rachel knew Kurt very well, and she immediately spoke with Nell, who confirmed that she had received a ticket from her uncle. They compared reservations. Same flights, and, of course, they were sitting together. Nell was thrilled.

Rachel looked forward to seeing her dads, who, finally, were beginning to prepare for retirement and move to New York.

Nell asked Rachel if she was ok with her dad being there to pick her up. Rachel just smiled and nodded.

By now Rachel and Nell were working regularly together, often with Tom, on Nell's arias, with dancing thrown in as well. Tom had a fairly decent baritone, and Nell's alto made the sessions fun and productive: Nell's grades, and the personal evaluations from her instructors, were excellent. Nell even met Emily, who dropped by for an impromptu dance seminar for her and Graham.

The three professional artists welcomed Nell into their little creative world, treating her as an equal, but also making sure they could teach her whenever they could. She told her father, during a recent Skype session,that she was getting an unparalleled look into the creative process as well as the practical business side.

"Dad, I think I make at least two new contacts a week! Rachel or Tom and Emily alternate having dinner on Wednesdays at their apartments, and I'm always invited, and get to meet whoever shows up: artists, singers, directors, agents." She sighed. "It's like a dream come true. And when Rachel goes to Los Angeles to film that movie in December, Emily and Tom still want me to show up!"

Her father looked proud, and looked like he had gained some weight back. He was excited to be seeing her. "I've missed you, baby" he said. "Me TOO!" shouted Sarah from the door to the study. He didn't seem perturbed when Nell told him she and Rachel were flying together, and was genuinely grateful for the gift from her uncle: her mother's life insurance money was earmarked for college expenses for both her and Sarah, and things had been tight at home without her income.

On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, Tom and Emily (who were flying to California much later in the day) picked up Nell and Rachel and drove them to La Guardia airport. They chuckled at their identical outfits: jeans, ballet flats, and white NYADA sweatshirts.

Nell hugged both of them, and thanked each for all they had done for her.

"We love working with you," Tom said, earnestly. "See you back soon."

Inside the plane, Nell and Rachel settled into their seats. Immediately, two of the first-class passengers recognized Rachel and came over for autographs. Nell watched as she graciously signed whatever they presented, but then surprised her by insisting on introducing her to the fans as " my friend Nell Hudson, an up-and-coming composer."

They chatted about various things on the flight. Nell enjoyed Rachel's company. She was more than just her gracious, upbeat, public self; Rachel was warm, funny, and as Nell had come to admire, incredibly generous. Nell particularly loved how she and her friends embraced, supported, and protected each other. Rachel once said they had all been appalled at how cutthroat and lonely Broadway could be, and essentially gravitated towards a kind of artistic commune, where each knew the other wasn't carrying a hidden knife behind the smile.

"I admire your relationship with Tom and Emily," Nell said. Rachel smiled fondly.

"We love and admire each other," she said, then chuckled. "When Tom and I broke up, I simply moved into the second bedroom so we could continue with the work on his first musical. It was uncomfortable at first, but we were so committed to _Mount Olympus Blues_ that the emotional pain faded away. He and I had a powerful musical bond; we still do. I knew Emily, and introduced her to Tom, and they forged a similar kind of artistic/romantic relationship. I think its Tom's personality that's the common link." Nell could see how much Rachel respected him as she spoke, and couldn't help but wonder what kind of bond she had once shared with her father. "Tom Foley is one of only a handful of men I've met that I admire _as_ men. My dads and your Uncle Kurt are on that list." Nell could see her hesitate for a moment, then Rachel put her hand on Nell's arm. "So is your father."

She looked at Rachel curiously. Knowing what she did, Nell wondered where that came from. She loved and admired her father, too, but she had lived with him all of her life.

"May I ask why?"

Rachel settled back in her seat.

"When were together he loved me for who I was, and believe me, I was pretty high-maintenance." She seemed calm and untroubled talking about him. "I admire him most, though, for what he did with you and Sarah. The true measure of a man is how he raises his children. You only have to look around your classmates to see how rare someone like your father is."

"Are you going to talk with him, Rachel?" Nell blurted that out, regretting it instantly, but Rachel didn't seem to mind. She did, however, bite her lower lip for a second before answering.

"If he's willing," she said, adding, "And only if it's okay with you."

Nell was grateful for that, but realized it was par for the course with Rachel and her circle of friends, people who had found that the way to transcend the meanness and pettiness of the world was through love, and who protected each other, first and foremost. Like family.

Nell loved her father, but she had come to love Rachel, too. At first she was afraid that she was just missing her mother, so much so that she saw Rachel as a substitute. But the musical connection changed her mind; it was obvious and powerful, and had nothing to do with her missing her mother so much that it still physically hurt.

She wanted her father and Rachel to be happy. And breaking a twenty-three-year-old silence could be the key to that. Nell took a deep mental breath, and surrendered to hope.

"You need to talk to him." Rachel's relief warmed her heart.

**Xxxxxx**

The plane came to a full stop. As they unbuckled, and prepared to get out of their seats, Rachel felt Nell's hand on her arm. Finn's daughter was looking at her, solemnly.

"I'm entrusting him to you," she said.

Not for the first time, Rachel wondered if Nell knew more about her and Finn than she let on.

"I won't intentionally hurt him, " Rachel reassured her, "But… I have to protect myself, too."

Nell gave her a nod of acknowledgement, then a smile.

"Of course. Let's go!"

The walk up the jetway seemed interminable; the carryon bag, along with her heart, weighed more and more the closer they got to the gate. Neither woman spoke, and, as they reached the opening, each instinctively looked at the other and smiled widely.

Try as she might, Rachel was unable to focus only on seeing her dads in the awaiting crowd at the gate. Her eyes obeyed only what her heart told them, however, and the man towering over most people in the crowd was the first person she recognized. Their gazes locked only for an instant, only enough time to recognize each other's eyes, like some retinal scan; she fought the weakness in her legs and turned away to find her fathers, who happened to be standing next to Finn and Sarah. She and Nell rushed to meet their respective parents, and for a few seconds, Rachel enjoyed the familial warmth and love.

"Welcome home baby," her Dad said, and Daddy just held her tightly, as he always did.

As they let go, Rachel moved over to Nell, who had just finished hugging her father and sister, putting her arm around her.

"Dads, this is Nell Hudson, Finn's oldest daughter. Nell, these are my dads, Hiram and LeRoy Berry."

"We're very pleased to meet you Nell," Hiram said, and LeRoy, in his typical way, shook her hand, and just nodded. "We just met your sister, and your father again, whom we haven't seen for _quite a while_." Hiram's voice had a slight edge to it, and Rachel snickered inwardly, loving it.

The time had come, though, that she had longed for and dreaded at the same time. Finn, who must have been feeling similarly, made it easier by keeping it formal. Rachel managed to avoid looking directly at him as he introduced Sarah.

"Rachel, this is my youngest daughter, Sarah." She looked very much like her sister in height and coloring, and wore her hair gorgeously long. She rushed up to Rachel and hugged her, saying, "I'm so honored to meet you!"

As Sarah released her, Rachel suddenly felt everyone's eyes. She tried to put on her professional face, but failed as she turned to look up at Finn.

"Hi, Rachel," he said, extending his hand, which she appreciated. A hug would have been too much. Her eyes took him in before she responded. The hair looked pretty much the same, only with some gray at the temples, and he was much thinner than she remembered, giving his face a planed look. But his eyes were the same, and he wore a genuine smile along with a dark-blue polo shirt and jeans, under an olive field jacket.

She took his hand and shook it, giving him a careful smile in return.

"Hi," was all she said. There was an unnerving moment when all of the sounds of the airport disappeared, and all she could see was him. She wasn't sure, but she thought he felt it as well. That had happened only once before in her life, and she struggled to squelch the feeling that the memory brought rushing back.

She let go of his hand, and everything returned to normal. Rachel felt slightly sick, because she wasn't sure if her face had given too much away in that instant. As everyone started moving towards the baggage claim area, she pulled on Finn's arm to stop and let everyone go ahead. He looked at her curiously, as she rummaged in her purse, and handed him an orange envelope.

"What's this?" he asked, pleasantly surprised.

"A Thanksgiving card," she replied, trying to keep a smile on her face. "Open it."

He grinned, and opened the envelope. Inside the card was a slip of paper. She watched him read it, and purse his lips. He said nothing.

"I'm not leaving here until you answer me, dammit," she barked. The others had stopped, and were staring at them.

Finn took a deep breath and looked at her, mouth slightly open, taken aback by her vehemence. She was standing on the edge of a precipice, and he was on the other side, and everything—_everything-_depended on his answer. She held her breath.

"I'll come over on Friday, after the holiday," he said finally, looking shocked at having been able to actually say it.

Her fathers and his daughters collectively rolled their eyes and resumed walking.

Finn and Rachel walked alongside each other, eyes straight ahead.

"Good answer," she said.


	12. Chapter 12

Rachel sat on the couch of her dad's house, fidgeting. Finn was due to arrive in ten minutes. She hadn't gone all out on her appearance. The outfit was simple: a cream silk shirt and black pants, and black shoes with a low heel. Her hair was down, about her shoulders; her makeup, minimal. She was forty-two, and she knew who she was, and this wasn't about enticing him, or even winning him back. It was about closure.

She was used to planning things in her life, much as she would plan a performance. Even when she was with Tom, they were _simpatico_ enough that she didn't have to feel like she was standing on shifting sand. As she did now. Finn, once a constant in her life, an anchor around which she could plan, had become a completely unknown variable. Even his very love for her was questionable; the prospect of hearing straight from him that he no longer loved her was the most likely outcome of this meeting. But she had to know, one way or another. Rachel simply could not go on like this, stuck in limbo. And if he didn't love her anymore, if there was no chance she could be his Rachel and he her Finn again, then it would be the last time Finn Hudson could break her heart.

Halle-fucking-lujah.

At nine AM, the doorbell rang (he had always been punctual, she found herself remembering) and she stood up. Part of her wanted to refuse to answer, to give him a taste of what she had experienced. But the feeling passed. Her mouth went dry as she opened the door.

He was dressed much like he was Wednesday, a red polo, khaki pants and casual leather chukkas. There was a small white bakery bag in his hand.

"Hey." He said it quietly, with a soft smile, tinged with an underlying sadness.

"Hey. Come on in."

She watched him look around the house, remembering; not much had changed.

"My dads are in Columbus, spending today and tomorrow with Daddy's sister." He nodded. There was a time, she thought, when that kind of news would have produced a different kind of response, from both of them.

"Want some coffee?" she asked, eyeing the bag.

"Yes, please. Black." She took the bag from his hand and looked inside. They were kosher cookies, with black-and-white icing, from the Jewish bakery in Lima. Her favorite.

She smiled, and said she'd be right back. She returned with a tray laden with their coffee, the cookies, and fresh banana bread she had baked that morning. She sat on the couch with him.

He looked surprised when he saw the banana bread.

"I don't hate you, Finn, " Rachel said, handing him his cup and the plate. "And apparently, " she took a bite out of a cookie and sighed, "you don't hate me either."

"Not only that, we both drink our coffee black now," he said, laughing.

That would have been too easy, to slide back into their old ways over baked goods and coffee. Unfortunately, twenty-three years stood in their way, and Rachel needed to get down to business. But it was a start.

"I was sorry to hear about Alice," she told him, honestly. "The two of you did a wonderful job raising Nell and Sarah."

"Thanks. And thanks for working with Nell—she loves you and your friends."

Rachel sipped her coffee. "It's my pleasure. I've become very fond of her."

They spent a few seconds just looking at each other. Once, they had the luxury of seeing each other all of the time. Now, after two different lives, it was like a rare gift. It couldn't erase what had happened, but somehow, it was enough to nudge them towards resolution, whatever that was.

"Rachel…" Finn began, "I'm here, as you asked. And I'll try and answer anything you need to know." His demeanor was resigned, regretful, but, she noticed, he didn't seem like he wanted to be anywhere else.

So she jumped in.

"Did you love me when you sent me away?"

She half-expected him to come back with an outraged retort; questioning his love for her back then would have been unthinkable. He didn't.

"Yes, but as it all happened I immediately began to question whether I deserved to love you at all. And as the train pulled away , and as my own heart was breaking, I knew I had fucked up everything so badly it couldn't be repaired. And it couldn't be stopped, because I had already signed the enlistment commitment."

He looked miserably at her.

"I realized I had deceived, manipulated and betrayed the person I was supposed to have loved, on the day she thought she was marrying me."

She listened, but soon her arms were crossed.

"Okay," she said, "so you felt you didn't deserve to love me. That doesn't explain the silence, Finn. You never answered one letter, text, or email. Not one."

"I was ashamed," he replied, "Every note from you was a reminder of what I'd done and I couldn't face it."

"And the tether? What about that? Was it real for you? It sure was for me."

"I felt it."

"Oh, really?" Rachel couldn't help herself now; the resentment was coming up like bile. "You apparently didn't feel it enough to prevent you from loving and marrying someone else, now did you? It didn't prevent you from having the beautiful children we should have had, did it?"

She was standing up, tears coming, hot and angry. He simply sat quietly, listening.

"Let me tell you about a tether, Finn. Let me tell you about that connection that strangled at birth every relationship I've tried to have since that fucking day you left me, even the one I thought could finally save me from you.

"He wanted me to marry him, Finn. And almost all of me wanted to marry him, too, because he was kind and gentle and he loved me for who I was, but I couldn't because one piece of my soul was locked into waiting to get final word from the fucking Universe! I had to break a beautiful man's heart because I feared, deep down, that my own heart was chained to a sinking ship, and the last thing I wanted was to drag Tom Foley down with me."

Rachel paused for breath, and to wipe the tears away. Finn just sat with a distant look.

"How did you do it, Finn?" she asked shaking her head in wonder. "How did you break the tether enough to marry Alice? Or did you simply love her more than me?"

She regretted saying it the minute the words left her mouth, desperately trying to wish them back, to no avail.

He wasn't listening. Something else had occupied his mind. He sat, almost blank, then spoke.

"I got your last letter on a Wednesday afternoon." His voice was almost a monotone, and his eyes were dead, devoid of emotion, which frightened her. "I was living with my parents in Lima after the army, helping Burt. I read it, and I knew you had finally given up. So I went to my truck and proceeded to get almighty drunk that night."

Rachel sat back down to listen.

"Sometime around one, I was sitting on a bed in a motel room, with a half-empty bottle of bourbon, and your letter. I read it three times, partly because I was drunk, but also because I wanted to make sure I understood what you said. And when I was sure…" He stopped, and even though his face looked emotionless, a tear rolled down his right cheek. "When I was sure, I reached for the gun on the nightstand."

The living room, which had been quiet, suddenly was filled with a strange noise. Rachel then realized it was her, hand clasped to her mouth, sobbing "No, no, no," over and over and over, until the words merged into an agonized, elemental moan.

A tear rolled down his left cheek, too.

"I put the gun to my head."

"No, Finn, please," she begged. But he couldn't stop.

"My eyes closed, and I saw an image of you in your wedding dress, because that was the last thought I wanted to have on earth."

Her wracking sobs eased for a second, enabling her to whisper, "What stopped you?"

His blank expression gave way to simple sadness.

"I started to see a different image. I saw my father."

She wiped her eyes.

"Your father?" her voice was nasal, tear-swollen.

"Yeah…" The sadness eased into a look of wonder. "It was as if he had come to tell me not to follow in his footsteps. All this time I had been trying to redeem him, and he redeemed himself."

"Oh baby, he saved you. I can't believe it. That's amazing."

She instinctively moved closer and pulled him into a hug, which he clumsily returned, but after a few seconds, he laid his head on her shoulder and started to sob.

"I'm sorry, Rachel, my God, I'm sorry. I didn't want you to know any of this, I didn't want you saddled with my guilt and shame, too. I-I got help at the VA, and part of that was going to school…"

"And you met Alice," Rachel said, kindly, "and she made all that guilt and shame go away, right? " He nodded into her shoulder.

She let out a long sigh, holding him, for the first time in twenty-three years. Oddly, she felt no bitterness anymore, because she realized that the people she loved were actually far more fragile than she ever imagined. All Rachel wanted to do now was to bring Finn into her circle of friends, where he could be comforted and loved, and healed. And she wanted his children there, too. Like family.

"Do you think I could make it go away, too?" she asked.

"Would you want to, after all I've done?" His arms were around her now, holding her tightly.

"Yeah," she replied softly, "I want to," and held his head to her breast, and kissed his brow.

They remained like that until the afternoon shadows began to gather.


	13. Chapter 13

He had fallen asleep. Rachel may have dozed off at one point; she wasn't sure. She had to go to the bathroom, but refused to move. Finn needed rest, physical and spiritual, and she wasn't about to deprive him of any of it.

She could see the street through the living room window, the shadows of the leafless trees now elongated in the late afternoon light. Her phone, resting on the coffee table had been buzzing with unread messages for a while now. So was his, she noticed with a smile, thinking his children must be wondering how the meeting went. Let them buzz, she thought dreamily, her Finn was asleep in her arms, and the tether wasn't chafing anymore. Her body, however, had other plans. Her stomach growled loudly, and she imagined, even if not the actual case, that it caused his eyelids to flutter open.

He started to lift up his head, but she held him there for a few more seconds. Her breast had not felt his head there for twenty-three years, and was reluctant to give it up.

"How long have I been asleep?" he asked, softly smacking his lips to get them moving again.

"About six hours," she told him, adding, "I slept too, for a little while. You rested well."

"I had a great pillow," he joked, and she kissed the top of his head. He sat up, and stretched, then looked at her. The tiredness and sadness in his eyes had eased somewhat.

"Are you okay?" Finn asked. "I kinda unloaded some heavy stuff on you."

"Nothing I can't handle, baby," she said, truthfully. Just knowing removed a huge portion of the burden she had been carrying all these years. Her eyes shone brightly as she added, "As long as I know you still love me."

She could see relief on his face, not just from her accepting what he had told her, but something more, as if he had once been afraid about feeling this way about her again. Understandable, she thought.

"Look," she continued, "I wasn't expecting to drop back in your life the way I did. To be honest, I wasn't even sure if I could handle being with you. I had a lot of anger. And you just lost your wife, my God, that makes this all the more complicated." She wore a wistful smile. "I wish it were simple again, when we meant everything to each other. That's not possible now. I have to share your heart with Alice, and Nell, and Sarah."

He looked anxious, and she tried to reassure him.

"No, no, it's okay. I was sitting here while you slept, wondering how anybody fits in with someone who has lost a spouse that they loved dearly. It's just that it's all the more heart-wrenching for me because you loved me first, and everything you had with Alice I had envisioned for us, and now that is lost."

She took his hand, to keep him reassured.

"I'm not going to try and compete with Alice, because I love you, but I'm probably going to feel insecure at first. I can't help that. So please be patient with me. If you love me, well, I know we can try again."

"I love you, Rachel," he said, "And I know this is going to take time. I haven't fully sorted it all out myself. All I know is, I need to be with you."

She felt his gaze, a tender look. His right hand reached out and caressed her face.

"I want us to be happy again."

She pressed her face against his hand.

"Me, too."

The kiss was tentative and sweet, but it was interrupted before passion could drive it deeper. Her stomach howled, rather than growled at that moment, and he laughed as she groaned.

"We've got to get you fed, girl, " Finn said, adding, "Friday is pizza night at our house. Let me call the girls, and have them set another place at the table, and we'll bring in dinner. Is that okay with you? Do you mind them eating with us?" Suddenly he looked worried, that he might not have said the right thing.

"It sounds lovely," she said. And she meant it.

**XXXxxx**

Rachel loved the modest, two-story yellow house**, **one of the few on the street that wasn't a muted beige or taupe.

"We hated how all the houses looked the same," Finn explained, "So when it was time to paint, Alice insisted on a bright color; ours was called 'Decisive Yellow'. At first the neighbors didn't like it, but soon-" he pointed at a bright green one, "—people started painting theirs bright colors too."

Nell and Sarah opened the door excitedly, and pulled Rachel inside, taking the veggie pizza she had bought.

"I'll share the veggie one with you," Nell told her. Over the last few weeks she had been trying Rachel's vegan dishes, and actually liked some of them.

The inside of the house was wonderfully lived-in and comfortable; the living room couch especially, inviting one to sprawl, and the chairs did not make one feel like sitting up straight with one's knees pressed together. And there was a dog, an amiable Gordon Setter named Bentley, who, after sniffing Rachel's outstretched hand, acted as if he had known her all his life.

On the mantle of the fireplace was a framed family picture, taken when Nell was a around four, and Sarah just a baby. Alice and Finn were in the background, smiling; Sarah was definitely her mother's daughter.

The girls chose diet Cokes to drink. Finn, his head stuck in the refrigerator asked what Rachel wanted.

"Do you have any beer?" she asked, as his chuckle floated out. She heard the clinking of bottles.

Sarah gave her a thumbs up.

"Uncle Kurt's always complaining about Dad's 'pedestrian' tastes. I'll have to rag him about this!"

"I only ever drank beer with your father, illegally, of course" Rachel said, and was gratified to see neither of the girls show any discomfort. Nor did they look like they were trying to be nice to her for their father's sake. Nell's eyebrow raised in amusement. Finn handed her a bottle, Pilsner Urquell, she noticed, approvingly, and she clinked bottles with him, taking a sip.

He sat next to her. She savored the first bite of pizza, and after a few bites, the conversation died down, Nell and Sarah looking at them expectantly.

"What?" Finn asked. He tried looking innocent, all the while squeezing her hand under the table. She suddenly felt very shy.

"Geez, Dad, you know what," Sarah told him. Nell just chewed on the pizza and grinned.

Rachel looked to him, eyes twinkling despite her bashfulness. He ran his hand through his hair.

"Well, Rachel and I talked..." he began, and Rachel realized just what a solid, close relationship he had with his children, because he was basically telling them that he had begun to move on from their mother, that he had found love again, yet he seemed relaxed, and they appeared excited for her and her father. It never occurred to Rachel, at that point, to think that Nell had come to love her more than just a mentor and friend. Nell (and her sister) loved her as the one person who could bring their father back to happiness, who could help heal both his and their loss.

"…and we realized that we still love each other, and want to try again."

Both girls almost squealed, and each came around the table to hug her and Finn. The rest of dinner was spent talking about the physical obstacles: him teaching here, Sarah still in high school, and Rachel in New York.

"Well, we have some time to work a lot of it out," Rachel said, since I have to be in Los Angeles for the next few months, filming."

Sarah and Finn then bombarded her with questions about the film, a screen adaptation of the best-selling novel, _Pinnacles of Rage _(Nell already knew most of it). Rachel had the female lead, as a burnt-out singer who unwittingly uncovers a plot to assassinate a police chief.

Sarah finally asked the inevitable question: was Rachel staying the night? Rachel laughed, blushing, and said no, she had asked their father to stay with her at her house. If that was okay, of course. Nell and Sarah both rolled their eyes, saying she could stay in their house, no biggie. Even Bentley chimed in by resting his head on her lap. But it was Finn who said, "Give Rachel and me a break, alright?" He turned to Rachel, winking, and said, "I apologize. My children are too precocious for their own good." He reminded Sarah that the curfew of midnight still applied, and that Nell, who had planned on staying home and talking to Graham via Skype, was to enforce it.

He went upstairs to get a bag, and, as Rachel sat in her chair, stroking Bentley's head, the girls stayed in the kitchen and made her feel less uncomfortable. Sarah sat next to her.

"Rachel, I hope you and Dad can be happy. Mom was my confidant, and I'm tired of snitching on Nell and Dad to Uncle Kurt." She winked and kissed Rachel's cheek, while Nell rolled her eyes.

Finn came downstairs, and they prepared to leave.

"Thank you for accepting me so easily," Rachel said, and both girls blushed.

**XXXxxx**

They were drinking scotch on her parent's couch, in the darkened living room. Her head was on his shoulder, and he stroked her hair with his free hand, while she caressed his thigh.

She smelled differently now, more of very, very, subtle perfume, almost imperceptible, but maddeningly attractive. His scent had changed over the years, too: no colognes or after shaves, just clean.

Rachel put her drink aside, pulling his face down to finish that kiss. His lips felt like they always did, surprisingly soft for such a big, rangy man, and the whisky's peaty tang excited her. He was gentle, but insistent, not hesitant and overly concerned for her pleasure as he had once had been. It was the kiss of a man who knew who he was and now knew what he wanted. It was what she wanted, too, pressing her body against him, the desire bringing her heart to a racing gallop and forcing her to break the kiss for breath every now and then.

He pulled away, and without speaking, lifted her into his arms, carrying her effortlessly up the stairs, and moving surely to her room by instinct. Rachel had almost forgotten how much she loved his size and strength, how she had secretly cherished being seen in the halls with him, towering over her, protecting her.

Once, she had dreamed of being carried like this as his wife, but the threshold here seemed so much more meaningful now. They had only spent an entire night together once, here in her bedroom, when her dads had been away; she wanted to bring that feeling back again, the exquisite sense of not being rushed or anxious, the true joy of having him all to herself, the freedom of being loved by the one she was meant to love in return. There could have been no other, not for her; the lonely years without him only amplified her joy at finally being with him now.

She was finally home, just as she had explained to him, all those years ago.

**XXxxxx**

The firelight illuminated her long hair perfectly. Its deep red hues were like a fine cabernet, he thought. She was toying with the dregs of her third Irish coffee, and he enjoyed seeing her mellow and relaxed.

Something told Finn why they were here, though, and part of him was afraid.

"She loves you, baby," Alice said, "And she wants to make you happy." Her eyes shone in the firelight, too, without a trace of jealousy, because the dead are beyond such things. But not from love, because he felt her love enveloping him like warmth from the fire. And part of him still hurt to think he would never kiss her delicate mouth again, nor would he sit with her under the oak tree on a fine summer's day.

She knew what he was thinking.

"It's okay to still love me too, you know."

He looked at her hopefully.

"I miss you," he said.

"I know." She turned to look out the window, because the offshore wind had finally blown away part of the cloud cover, leaving shafts of sunlight illuminating the Golden Gate and the water, now suddenly a deep blue with creamy whitecaps. Somebody had already launched a sailboat.

And he knew. She took his hands in hers.

"I have to go now, Finn," and before he could protest she leaned over and kissed him goodbye.

"I love you. Take care of Rachel and our girls." She stood up now, grabbing her purse, and she looked beautiful in that white floral dress he adored, and as she turned to leave, she looked over her shoulder.

"See you around, Finn."

When it dawned on him what she meant, he was finally able to let her go.

"See you around, Red," he said, smiling, and finished his drink.


	14. Chapter 14

The car pulled up outside of a beautiful, low-slung house, perched on bluffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

"Are you sure this is the place, Kurt?" Finn couldn't believe Rachel was staying here during the filming. The house was on one cusp of a perfectly half-moon-shaped bay; even though it was late December, surfers bobbed in the water, amidst dark-brown beds of kelp, under a flawless azure sky. Santa Catalina Island's blue bulk rose from the horizon.

"14211 Rocky Point Road, Rancho Palos Verdes," his brother read off the email. "This is it."

"Well, are we going in or not?" Sarah demanded. The four of them piled out of the car.

Finn, Kurt, Nell and Sarah walked up the flagstone path through a beautifully-manicured and landscaped front yard. Kurt didn't want to even know how much this home must have cost. It was owned by two highly successful novelists, Geoff Fielding and Elena Bosaic, who Rachel met when she was a student at NYADA. The film was based on Geoff's insanely popular best seller.

Elena met them at the door. She was tall, tanned and blonde, athletically built for a woman of Rachel's age. She and her husband were avid surfers, who met on the beach when they just thirteen. Elena was dressed in gray yoga pants and a dark blue t-shirt with "Cal" written in gold script.

"Come on in," she beamed, adding, "Don't worry. Rachel's down on the beach, reading a script revision, while Geoff and our son Phil are surfing."

Kurt gave the introductions,. Elena was particularly interested in meeting Finn. She looked him up and down, approvingly, then said, "Geoff and I have spent almost twenty-three years listening to Rachel talk about you. I'm glad you finally made it back together." Then she looked at Nell and Sarah, adding. "I hope you two brought bathing suits—Phil's surfing buddies that he grew up with are all down there now, and there's a big beach party planned., so you won't have to spend all your time with us old fogies." She explained Phil was down on Christmas break from her alma mater, U.C. Berkeley. "And don't worry—there are girls down there as well, so you won't feel too weird." Nell asked how she and Geoff knew Rachel, and she explained that Geoff was a student at NYU, and met Rachel at an all-night diner when they were both suffering from insomnia. "Geoff and I were doing the long-distance thing, and it sucked mightily, but we made it."  
She threw Finn a meaningful glance.

Kurt, knowing that was a sore spot with Elena, said, "Okay! Are we ready to go surprise her?" He had brought Finn and the girls out West when they had Christmas break, even though Rachel was supposed to fly to Ohio the next day for a few days over Christmas. Geoff and Elena had been thrilled to hear of his plan, and invited all of them to spend a day or two at their house before heading back. They told him that Rachel was missing all of them badly.

Elena led them to the bluff face itself, and Kurt could see a tiny, lone figure, sitting in a chair on the rocky beach. A wooden staircase led all of them down the face of the cliff, , but Elena and Kurt remained on the last step, letting Finn and his daughters sneak up on Rachel.

"How is she doing?" Kurt asked.

"She's happier than she has been," Elena said, "So you did good acting on your hunch, but she's also wary of getting too excited. I think it's too soon to know how she really is about all of this. I mean, think about it: they were barely together two days before she had to traipse out here."

They watched as Finn approached first, Rachel hearing him, turning around, and leaping to her tiptoes, arms around his neck, kissing him with abandon, then seeing the girls and gathering them all in, joyfully.

"She seems pretty happy," Kurt remarked.

Elena snorted. "The prospect of getting laid in the immediate future makes most people look happy, Kurt."

True.

"Finn has seemed happier in some respects as well, but he's been very introspective the two weeks she's been out here."

Elena thought a moment, then said, "Let's give them some mutual introspective time. The girls can hang out with Phil and the surfer kids. I'll go wave Geoff in and we'll take you out shopping after lunch, leaving the two of them alone. They can meet us at a restaurant later."

Kurt was dubious.

"Knowing them, I don't expect much talking to occur."

"Maybe they'll surprise us," Elena winked.

**XXXxxx **

They sat on a blanket in the backyard after lunch, almost on the edge of the bluff, with a sweeping view of the entire bay as well as the island channel. He was dressed in a blue t-shirt and khaki cargo shorts; she in a white tank top and denim cutoffs. They wiggled their toes in the grass and inhaled the pungent sea air. Rachel marveled at how something so briny could still smell so fresh. She noticed him staring intently at the water beyond the bay, wind-whipped into whitecaps atop impossible blue.

"I'm glad you came out here," she started. It was true. Despite everything that had happened, Rachel still missed his physicality, his _presence_. She relished waking up in his arms. Elena had roared with laughter when she said it would have all been easier if Finn was just her boy-toy.

"Me too, because it was hard to stay away, after all the thinking I've been doing."

"What kind of thinking?" She watched a large, almost perfect wave form at the mouth of the bay, carrying several surfers towards the rocky beach, leaving the rest bobbing gently behind it.

"I wanted to know what I could do to make you happy."

Part of her wanted to say just loving her was enough, but that just wasn't true. The fact was, she still hurt. The bitterness may have faded, now that she understood why he had done what he did, but the pain and sense of loss certainly had not.

She tried explaining how she felt to Elena and Geoff at dinner the week before, and Geoff brought up the possibility of having a child. Of all the things contributing to her sense of loss over Finn, being childless certainly was high on the list, but, curiously, it wasn't high on her list of current priorities.

"To me," she explained, "A child is an incarnation of love. There's no doubt we love each other, and if we stay together, there's always a possibility of having a baby together. I mean, I'm still young enough. But what I'm talking about is what I need from him in order to be willing to stay in for the long haul." Geoff and Elena looked at her expectantly, but she just shrugged. "I'm not sure I can articulate what that is yet." She paused, and actually smiled. "But I think I'll know it when I see it, because I'll feel it—" she tapped her heart—"at the same time."

A sailboat appeared, scudding before the wind, rounding the other cusp of the bay.

"Did you come to any conclusions?" Rachel asked.

"No conclusions, but I did think about who I am, and what I might mean to you." He turned to look at her. His sunglasses couldn't hide the tenderness in his face. "And what I want to mean to you."

"What do you think you mean to me?" She propped herself on one elbow, intrigued.

He lay on his back, hands clasped behind his head.

"When I first met you, your voice went straight to my heart. I didn't realize what had happened, then, but soon after I noticed the most significant communication between us was always through song. It never ceased to amaze me how the two of us could screw up communication every other way, always having to backtrack and apologize, yet when we sang to one another, there was never any misunderstanding. And worse, when we didn't listen, or refused to listen, the results were disastrous."

The two of them were startled at that moment by five Brown Pelicans, who popped up from below the lip of the bluff, right in front of them, riding the air currents climbing the face of the cliff. The birds eyed them disinterestedly before wheeling away, soaring out across the bay.

"Geoff's favorite bird," Rachel remarked. Finn smiled briefly, but grew serious again."

"I still kick myself for not listening to you sing that Christmas present you gave me in the auditorium," he said sadly, "And I wonder what our lives would have been like if I had."

Rachel said nothing. She wondered what would have happened as well. And she realized that, for Finn it could well have meant he would never have met Alice, and never had the children that were enjoying themselves on the beach below, and was it being selfish now to wish for something that would have prevented them from ever existing?

"The thing is, Rach," she smiled, it being the first time he had called her that since meeting up again, "I think I am the only person with that kind of connection to you, and you are the only one with the same connection to me. And I spent the last two weeks arranging a song for piano that I'd like you to hear."

He rose, and grasped her hand, pulling her up. They walked, hand-in-hand, across the lawn to the house, into the living room, where he sat at a baby grand piano. Instead of sitting, Rachel stood where she could see his hands.

"Phil's the only musician in the house," Rachel remarked. "In fact, I gave him his very first lesson." Finn smiled.

"I changed one line to better express what I want to say," he said.

He played a soft introduction, with a gentle, rocking beat, and she enjoyed watching his fingers moving surely over the keys, his head slightly bent forward, eyes closed, nodding slightly to that beat. The song was familiar to her, the beautiful "Fields of Gold", by Sting, and it fit his warm voice perfectly:

_**So she took her love**_

_**For to gaze awhile**_

_**Upon the fields of barley**_

_**In his arms she fell as her hair came down**_

_**Among the fields of gold**_

His eyes opened, and he smiled at her for the next verse:

_**Will you stay with me, will you be my love**_

_**Among the fields of barley**_

_**We'll forget the sun in his jealous sky**_

_**As we lie in fields of gold**_

_**See the west wind move like a lover so**_

_**Upon the fields of barley**_

_**Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth**_

_**Among the fields of gold**_

Then his countenance changed, into sincere regret, tears behind his eyes:

_**I never made promises lightly**_

_**Yet there've been many I've broken**_

_**But I swear in the days still left**_

_**We'll walk in fields of gold**_

_**We'll walk in fields of gold**_

A catch came to her throat, and she closed her eyes, his regret and commitment travelling straight to her heart, lodging there in a way not even Tom could match, because they never had this kind of pure, undistorted channel.

She let him finish:

_**Many years have passed since those summer days**_

_**Among the fields of barley**_

_**See the children run as the sun goes down**_

_**Among the fields of gold**_

_**You'll remember me when the west wind moves**_

_**Upon the fields of barley**_

_**You can tell the sun in his jealous sky**_

_**When we walked in fields of gold**_

_**When we walked in fields of gold**_

_**When we walked in fields of gold **_

He ended beautifully, the piano embracing that gentle beat, coming finally to rest, on velvet.

She couldn't move; his love, transmitted so purely, so undistorted, was still reverberating within her.

"I was never able to do this with Alice," he said, softly. "She would ask me to sing to her all of the time, but she never reacted the way you are now."

Her eyes finally came back into focus. He was looking at her kindly.

"You said you weren't going to try and compete with Alice. But the fact is, you have to feel like you are, just by being with me."

She nodded, silently.

Finn got up and gathered her in his arms. "You aren't competing with her. Our connection is completely different; you just witnessed an example of what we have that Alice and I never shared."

They moved to the couch, and he held her close again.

"Was she like me?" Rachel asked.

"In some ways, yes. She was kind and compassionate, like you. But she didn't have the drive and the artistic talent. She was taller." She giggled and punched his arm, then relaxed in his embrace.

"Will you sing to me all of the time, like you just did" she asked. He nodded.

"Will you write songs with me?" She looked up at him, as she felt his surprise.

"Write songs with you?"

"Yeah. You've done it before. We both have. And you're the only person with whom I could feel comfortable writing."

"What about Tom?" She loved how there wasn't a trace of jealousy in his voice. She shook her head.

"My musical relationship with him is as a performer, an interpreter of his music. I hope to have the same relationship with Nell."

"And with me?" His eyebrows arched, and she could see he was intrigued by the idea.

Rachel felt the stirrings of old, latent feelings. She saw the beginning now of something special, free of the lopsidedness of their past, and with it some of the insecurities, too.

"With you and the connection we have, however," she said, with a dreamy expression, "the possibilities are… endless."

**A/N: many thanks to fellow writer henriettaline for her suggestions and encouragement, and to my readers for their patience. **

**Lyrics are from "Fields of Gold", by Gordon Sumner, AKA Sting**

**Finn changed the lyric "And there have been some that I've broken" to "Yet there've been many I've broken"**


End file.
